#almost more of a letter to 16 year old me

[inbabylontheywept]

So: You have depression.

I'm 27 now. The last time I had a major depressive episode was when I was 16. I still have depressive episodes every now and then, but the worst tend to be a month, and most I can generally get through them in about a week. It took me a while to kind of figure out how to handle depression as a recurring thing, and so I thought I'd make a little welp-I-got-diagnosed-now-what guide.

So, first part of the guide: When I first got depressed, I thought that depression was the terrible, sad hopeless feeling that I had. It isn't. That terrible sad hopeless feeling is a symptom of prolonged depression. By the time I get to that point, I'm pretty well cooked and it takes a lot longer to bounce back. Avoiding getting to that point is a vital part of living with depression.

So what does depression feel like?

I am going to hammer this point home a lot of times while writing this: Depression is an anesthetic. It is not felt as a presence, but as an absence. The first absence, for me at least, is when life stops being fun. Every movie feels boring, I can't get more than a few pages into any book, and everything just seems... bland.

This is the best point to catch it at. I have found that consumptive patterns of entertainment do not do anything to help depression. Some people have told me that producing art at this time really helps them, but personally, I can't imagine trying. Instead, I just do tasks that I know inspire physical satisfaction. Which sounds like jerking off (I don't actually reccomend that route) but really means things like: Going for a walk in the sunshine. Working out. Cleaning the house in a fairly exhaustive way. Scrub the baseboards, wash the sink, clear the fridge, etc.

I recognize that doing those is really, really hard while depressed because depression causes physical weakness and exhaustion. The best I can do is, unfortunately, encourage vigillance. If you suspect you're getting into a funk, start on this before you get really deep into the mire. People that get into the mire can get out, but it's not self-help read-a-book type shit, it takes therapy and medication and patience and it is so much easier and cheaper and faster to just avoid letting it get that bad then crawling out once it's sunk its teeth into you.

I have found that for things that work almost by exposure alone, spending time in the sun and talking to people are borderline magical, with the caveat that talking to people about being depressed tends to make things worse instead of better. Talking about anything that cuts through the anesthetic of depression is ideal, or if it's sunk in deep enough that you're having trouble finding anything, talking to someone else about what they're passionate about. Ideally, you'd find someone passionate about a thing you know you're passionate about but are struggling to enjoy right then, and then you'd just let your mirror neurons run amok. Bonus Points

So, you're already depressed. Like, pretty fucking depressed, and you fucked up, and you let it slide. What then?

This is my I-Fucked-Up-And-Got-Big-Sad, Salvage-My-Weekend, depression routine. You'll need to make one for yourself at some point, and yours will work better for you, but this is mine and I think it'll work okay-ish for you. Until you get your own, at least.

I have to get up before 10 am. Staying in bed later than that gives the depression such a huge head start on my day that I just basically can't catch up. If I can't just brute force get myself out of bed, I will throw my blankets and sit cold on my sheets until that gives me the motivation I need. If I cannot work up the guts to throw my blankets, I will actually roll off the bed, flop gracelessly onto the floor, and then stare wistfully up until I can will myself to stand. It helps that every bedroom I've had either had freezing cold tile, or itchy coarse carpet. If you have a comfy floor, maybe buy a very scratchy rug? I cannot emphasize how important this step is. It's like, half of the whole thing.

After getting up, immediately go outside and sit in the sunshine. This provides free executive function, and getting it ASAP will make everything go much smoother.

Talk to someone while outside. If you have a roommate, they work great. Face to face conversations tend to be the best, but phone calls with loved ones are like at least 80% as effective. Calls to family members tend to be better than in face conversations with acquaintances or people you're mostly ambivalent about. Don't do chat messages. Worse than nothing.

This should have scrounged up enough free energy that you can clean something. I always start by trying to clear a part of my counter off. If that's all I got, that's all I got, and I still feel good about it. If that inspires me to do more, I'll run with it until a whole room is up to snuff. I don't do more than one room while I'm this crispy: The goal is not really to clean the house, but to work through a series of tasks that require some initial level of executive function but provide a larger amount back once completed. Life has a lot of these deals that are like, give me $10 and I'll give you $12, give me $12 and I'll give you $20, on and on, and the hard part is really just getting the $10. Some people wake up with $10. Most days, you will wake up with $10. But not when you're like this. You're gonna have to earn it. I'm sorry.

I am going to reiterate: This is what I do when I feel a funk coming on. My life and my schedule are not always this regimented. Living with depression doesn't mean never sleeping until 10, or having a weekend where you don't talk to someone, or take a break from cleaning. Living with depression just means never, ever, leaning into the depression when you feel it coming on. Even when it starts out feeling cozy. Even when you want to just snuggle into it and sleep and sleep and sleep. The first day or two will feel luxurious, and the next week will feel terrible, and the longer you wait the harder it will be to get out. You are always going to have to worry about that. Again, I'm really, truly sorry.

Bonus Bonus Points

I am not a psychologist, but I do have a theory about why depression exists. Remember how I said it's anesthetizing? I think that's what it's there for - getting rid of emotional pain when it isn't being helpful. People often get depressed after a major injury. Boredom is normally nature's way of punishing you for just curling up and doing nothing, but depression can be the emergency override on boredom. It makes sense for you to sit still and do nothing while your body is healing, so maybe nature temporarily removes all your motivation with depression and then just lets you be a limp noodle until you're healthy again. Maybe?

Back to the emotional level, though, depression might also be a way to muffle pains that would otherwise be so intense that people might not remain in control of the faculties. The pain of losing a parent is notorious for driving people so mad with pain that they ruin their lives, but depression is there to at least try and keep us sedated until the nadir has passed.

It is helpful to know what the purpose of depression is, because you will eventually get it from an "intended" cause, and reflexively fighting it then probably isn't good for you. And at the very least, knowing why this stupid thing exists makes the world feel like less of a cruel place.

There are a lot of interesting studies on the physical effects of depression - things like muscle weakness, increased pain tolerance, muscle relaxation, etc. that I won't go into, but it does so many things at once that it almost doesn't feel like a fuck up, but a feature that we just kind of lost the plot on. Not gonna deep dive on it, but it is something that probably shouldn't be confined to just a mental disorder.

[kellysue]

Members of the cast of #FMLComix tell you how to pre-order #FMLComix.

FML #1 arrives in November 2024 with main cover art by David López and variant covers featuring artwork by Alvaro Martinez Bueno, David LaFuente, Nicola Scott (1:10 incentive variant), and Pepe Larraz (1:25 incentive variant). One additional variant cover will be revealed at a later date. Each issue will feature bonus material such as essays on music, true crime, interviews, and more that will be exclusive only to the single issues.

“David and I have been talking about doing something creator-owned together since Captain Marvel, but it took years for the stars and our schedules to properly align,” said DeConnick. “Now that we’re here though, it almost feels planned — like we needed exactly as long as it took us to grow and change, both as artists and as people, so that we could come back together for this big swing.

“FML is a challenging book — stylistically and in tone — and I’m not sure we could have pulled it off five years ago, honestly. But here we are—and I’m so proud of and impressed by the work put in by everyone involved. David is drawing like he’s got something to prove, Cris is pulling disparate styles together seamlessly, tying them together with her palette and Clayton of course, our ace and secret weapon, works his subtle magic on lettering to make sure you hear everything in your head exactly the way it was intended. McCubbin developed this terrific logo that evolves with each issue, and I don’t even know where to start with how supportive and inspiring Daniel Chabon’s editorial team has been. They’ve given us exactly what we needed at every step along the way.

“For my part, FML feels of a piece with Pretty Deadly and Bitch Planet; it’s as personal as the former and as satirical and of-the-moment as the latter.”

"This is without a doubt one of the best and most important books I have had the honor to edit in my fifteen years in the comic book industry,” added Senior Editor Daniel Chabon. “I have been a tremendous fan of this creative team for a long, long time; and I cannot wait for everyone to pick up this series and to see what an amazing achievement it is."

Riley is a 16-year-old heavy metal kid who draws down his anxiety with a ballpoint pen. His mother is an aging punk cartoonist slam dancing with a true crime obsession. Bound by threads of magical realism, they navigate the absurdities and horrors of our modern lives.

Issue one introduces Riley’s daily life: terrorism diaries, school shooter drills, and social pressures under the constant shadow of encroaching wildfires that rain ash like a morbid snow. His refuge? The Forest Park Witch’s House, where tales of chaos magic and trickster gods promise some semblance of sense in a senseless world.

Echoing the comedy of “Bottoms,” the nostalgic pull of “Stranger Things,” and the coming-of-age journey in “Stand By Me,” DeConnick’s first return to creator-owned comics since Bitch Planet is an apocalyptic odyssey that speaks to the resilience of the misfit and the power of art.

FML #1 (of 8) arrives in comic shops on November 6, 2024. It is now available to pre-order at your your local comic shop for $4.99.

Be sure to follow DarkHorseComics on social media and check our website, www.darkhorse.com for more news, announcements, and updates.

Praise Kelly Sue DeConnick and David López: “DeConnick has always combed top-notch lyrical text with a knack for bringing out the best in the artists she works with.”—Polygon

“Kelly Sue DeConnick either writes with a King Midas pen, is one of the few remaining wizards in the world, or, most likely, is just that damn good because Bitch Planet is yet another amazing series with her name on the cover.”—Word on the Nerd

“Pretty Deadly pushes at the limits of medium, challenging our ideas of what comics can be.”—IGN

“Kelly Sue DeConnick’s Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons may just be the best thing to come out of the Black Label line to date.”—IGN

“Kelly Sue DeConnick is a force in comics.”—Book Riot

“Kelly Sue DeConnick—a powerhouse in the comics world.”—Salon

“A primal scream in exquisitely worked gold.”—Polygon on Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons

“López’s pencils are like a breath of fresh air. His style evokes a classic superhero aesthetic while still bringing subtle emotional vulnerability to these characters through strong storytelling and page design.”—Nerds Unchained on Captain Marvel (2014)

[blade-that-was-broken]

Soldier On

Getting that call felt like a nightmare.

Bruce owned a small resort on one of the islands in the state of Hawaii, running it with his wife, Brandy with their gaggle of kids roaming around. He was content where his life was and where he ended up. Good weather, great wife, a few kids. He didn't think he could want anything more. Well, granted, he wishes he had a better relationship with his brothers.

He left home practically the moment he turned eighteen. After his parent's divorce when he was about thirteen, things got difficult. They spent a lot of time with their grandmother and Bruce just could not wait to get out. His biggest regret was leaving his brothers behind with their mother. Their father had cut off all contact. Either that or their mother had. It didn't matter.

Floyd wrote letters but that was the majority of their contact. He started some kind of music career and seemed to be doing pretty well with himself.

Clay was in college, working on a Master's degree or something. Bruce wasn't entirely sure. Clay wasn't on speaking terms with him at all, feeling abandoned when Bruce fled the moment he could.

And Branch? Well, Bruce hadn't really heard from Branch since the youngest had moved in with Grandma. He'd have to be 16 or 17 now. Almost an adult. Almost ready to do whatever he wanted with his life. Bruce had no idea what that was.

And then there was John Dory, the forgotten one. He had been about fifteen when their parents divorced and their father took him in said divorce. They never heard from him again.

It was in the middle of the day when got the call. "Is this Bruce...."

"Yes?"

"This is LA Military Hospital. Are you related to a... John Dory?"

He hadn't heard that name in years.

Decades, even.

"He's... he's my brother."

"We haven't been able to find any contacts. We are glad to reach you. There is some news I have to tell you."

She had to tell him over the phone. Turned out, John had joined the military many years ago but recently had been severely injured in an explosion overseas. She didn't expand on the shape he was in but apparently soon he would be released and he had no where to go. Not that he would have argued but Brandy was with him when he was told and she told him to get him and bring him home immediately. She booked him a couple of tickets - one for him and the other for John - and told him to get him.

He wasn't sure if he had even mentioned John to her. He must have, right? Bruce had been thirteen the last time he saw JD. He didn't know what to expect.

He didn't expect to walk into a physical therapy center and having to ask which one of the severely injured men there was John Dory. He couldn't even recognize his own brother. He didn't expect to be shown the area and he didn't expect to see his brothers struggling to walk with only one leg. He didn't expect the all the bandages or the newly shaved head or the scar on his face.

"Sugar and cupcakes," John hissed in pain.

Oh yeah, that was JD.

The therapist he was with looked amused. "You have to be my only patient I have never heard swear."

"Force of habit, I guess... or nostalgia. Take your pick," John grunted.

"You must be pretty popular with parents."

"Their kids find it hilarious," John managed snarky grin. "Probably corrupted a few."

"You're doing great, John," the therapist smiled. "You are making a lot of progress."

"Maybe I should slow down then," he joked. "The sooner I can walk, the sooner I get kicked out on the streets."

"You don't have any family?"

"Tried finding them when I turned eighteen. Turns out, I'm no detective and finding cut off family can be harder than it looks."

"JD," Bruce called.

John's shoulders tensed. "I told you Mouth, not to call me that. Only my br..." he snapped, turning around. He paused and blinked, staring at Bruce.

"I know I look different than that 13-year old you used to know," Bruce started, awkwardly. "But uhm... the hospital found me? I guess? It's..."

"Bruce," John exhaled, staring at him.

"Yeah, JD," Bruce nodded. "It's me. Been a long time huh?"

[dilf-din]

Let Down Your Guard, Lover (Open Your Door)

Rebelcaptain Fluffbruary day 16: neighbor, horse, desire

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: language, alcohol mention, pining idiots

A/N: here’s something to make up for the pain I dropped on Valentine’s Day! This one really got away from me. I hope you guys enjoy it!! I’ll try to have this cross posted on AO3 later tonight 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Day 1

Everything smelled like dust and sweat. A thick summer heat made the air feel as stagnant as it was stale. Even with the windows in the living room opened to the twilight sky, there was no wind to stir it around.

Jyn sank against a pile of boxes with two cold beers in her hands, offering one to Bodhi who gladly took it. Their foreheads were damp, long strands of dark hair plastered to each one.

“Well, we did it,” Bodhi said, still cheerful somehow.

All of Jyn’s cheer had bottomed out by their fifth trip up the narrow staircase and had yet to return.

“Thanks for all your help.”

“I’m just glad to have my best mate in my favorite city,” he smiled back, pressing the bottle to his lips and taking a long drink.

Jyn picked at the peeling wrapper with what was left of her nails. They had been chewed down to uneven nubs during the process of agonizing over checking and double checking every mental and physical list she had accumulated before packing up her small life and moving across an entire ocean. She and Bodhi had met years ago in a Uni exchange program. He had come to stay with her and her uncles for a term, and they became fast friends.

He checked his watch and sighed, “I’ve got an early morning. Think you’ll be alright?” he asked, pushing himself off the ground and offering her a hand.

She took it and hoisted herself up next to him.

“I’ll be fine. Just gonna shower and deal with this mess in the morning.”

He gave her a quick high five and let himself out the front door.

Jyn sighed and took a moment to really take in her space. Her first apartment.

The wooden floors had deep dings in them from decades of use, and nail holes had been sloppily plastered over leaving uneven textures on almost every sickly white wall. It was clinical and old, but it was hers.

Every room had wide windows that let immeasurable amounts of light in and looked down on the crowded streets. Her new bed had been delivered today, and she and Bodhi had even picked up a black velvet couch from someone on Facebook marketplace earlier that day. Jyn had a few pieces of furniture, a few pots and pans, a few mismatched plates, and a deep well of hope for the future.

Her stomach let out a low growl, and she decided to phone in a pizza from the place that had been eying them from across the street during their seemingly endless trips up to her flat. She also decided to fish out her bedsheets and some fresh clothes while she waited, shuffling through the towers of boxes and cursing herself for not labeling them more clearly.

Jyn showered in lukewarm water, washing away the sweat and grime that clung to her. The air here felt thicker than it did in London, like a second skin she had yet to get used to. She swiped a clear spot in the steamed up, segmented mirror and tried her best to detangle her hair before piling it on top of her head in a haphazard, still too wet bun. For clothes, she had fished out an old pair of cotton sweats and a navy shirt with her uni’s name across the chest in thick white lettering. It was a little short on her from a washing mishap her second year, but she was too fond of it to toss it just yet.

A soft knock hit her ears from the front room, the empty walls carrying it to where she stood in her bedroom.

“Coming!” she called out to who she assumed was the pizza guy as she hurried across the gritty floor and regretted not pulling on a pair of socks.

She pulled the door open and was face to face with a shy looking man with deep brown eyes. In his hands was her pizza box.

“Um, hi. I’m your neighbor. They delivered this to our place, but we didn’t order it,” he awkwardly held the box out for Jyn to take.

“Oh bollocks. I must’ve told them your number by mistake, sorry. I just moved in. You probably heard me fighting with the elevator this afternoon.”

He chuckled but didn’t respond, a small smile gracing his lips. He had hair almost the same color as his eyes dancing just beyond his ears and curling around the nape of his neck.

“Well thanks. I’m Jyn,” she smiled.

“Cassian.”

They shared a moment of unwavering eye contact, only breaking it when another tenant on the hall hurried out of their door, excusing themself as they squeezed behind the pair.

“Right, well. I’m gonna go eat this I guess.”

Cassian nodded, “Welcome home. It’s a pretty wacky neighborhood, but we try to take care of each other. We’re just next door if you need anything,” he gave another small smile and a half wave of his hand.

Jyn smiled and closed the door behind her, her attention almost immediately going back to the pizza as her stomach let out another noise like a sad cat.

In the hallway, Cassian became alarmingly aware of the pace of his heart and the sweat that was coating his palms. He wiped them quickly on his jeans and headed back into his apartment. Meshi was perched at the counter with his feet tucked under a stool. He didn’t look away from his computer screen as he heard his roommate re-enter their home.

“All good?”

“Yeah,” he smiled dreamily, sliding off his slippers and nudging them next to the shoe rack that sat by the entryway, “All good.”

Day 2

“Shit,” Jyn hissed looking at the half assembled coffee table and the snapped off piece of metal hanging from one of the screw holes. “Shit. Shit,” she leaned back on her legs and braced herself with her hands tapping the ground in thought.

Cassian had said to ask if she needed anything, and not that she was looking for an excuse to see him or anything, but she thought this definitely qualified. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

She brushed the dust off of the front of her jeans and slipped on a pair of sandals before exiting her door and approaching the one right next to it. Jyn smiled at the welcome mat they had placed in front of their entryway. A little faded, but a nice, warm touch nonetheless.

She knocked and stepped back to wait, suddenly feeling less bold.

The door opened quickly, but she was met with a man who wasn’t Cassian. He had much shorter hair and a bit of a confused look on his face.

“Hi, um, I’m Jyn. Your new neighbor?”

His eyebrows softened with a knowing look.

“Do you by chance have an allen wrench I could borrow? Mine cracked off in my bookcase,” she said pathetically holding up what remained of the handle.

The man chuckled and invited her in, “Sure, just one second.”

She crossed the threshold and stood in the doorway trying to take in as much as she could without looking too curious. Everything was more neat than you would expect for two men in their twenties. Not a book out of place, not a dish in the sink.

In the living space, the curtains were neatly drawn, and there were even some throw pillows on the sofa. The kitchen counter was spread with folders and pens next to an open laptop, and she guessed that Cassian’s roommate worked from home. And judging from his high and tight faded haircut, she reasoned he was ex military and at least part of the reason for the flat’s pristine condition.

The man had crossed over to the kitchen to rummage through a drawer.

“Cassian’s at work today. I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

“No need,” she said quickly, “Just needed to borrow this,” she hoped he wouldn’t notice the pink that was teasing at her cheeks.

“I’ll do ya one better. You can keep it”, he smiled, crossing the space once more to place the small tool her hand, “Name’s Melshi, by the way.”

“Melshi,” she repeated, “Well thank you, Melshi. I appreciate the kindness.”

He nodded and smiled as she let herself back out the door and into her own apartment.

Day 12

It was a while before Jyn and Cassian saw each other again. She started to wonder if he really existed, or if he was just a perfect figment of her imagination.

Imagination. She had to remind herself that she didn’t know anything about him, and that getting to know him as a friend was the best course of action. She had spent a lot of time her first two weeks wound up in daydreams about the boy next door with the dark hair, so she decided to make an excuse to see him.

The rotting bananas on her counter were begging to either be thrown in the bin or turned into a bread. So she went with the latter option and decided to add in some cinnamon and walnuts. Jyn had never been one for cooking. She learned enough to get by in Uni and resorted to ordering takeout whenever possible, but how hard could banana bread be?

She quickly prepared the batter and poured it into the two dingy loaf pans she had inherited from her mother. They were dull in color and covered in small dings on the inside and outside, but it was one of the few things Jyn had left of her, so she couldn’t bring herself to part with them even if they didn’t get used very often.

While the bread baked and filled her flat with the sweet smell of cinnamon, she put one of her dad’s old records on to play while she cleaned the mess in the kitchen. Humming to herself softly, she scrubbed each dirtied dish, wiped the counters, and even emptied the overflowing bin.

It was a Friday evening nearing dinner time, so Jyn decided to let the bread cool and bring it over first thing in the morning. She heard what she was pretty sure were two voices through the brick wall of her living room and hoped that Cassian would still be there in the morning.

Just as she was beginning to wonder about her dinner plans, her phone buzzed from the kitchen counter. It was Bodhi.

“Hello there!”

“Jyn! What are you doing for dinner?”

“Nothing yet, I just realized how late it was.”

“Want to order some Chinese? I’m at the video store up the road to try and snatch a copy of the new Conjuring.”

Jyn smiled, “I’ll phone it in.”

She ended the call and pulled the menu to the nearest Chinese spot off of the fridge where it hung with a faded snoopy magnet from her childhood.

Bodhi arrived about the same time as the food, quickly filling her in on all of the latest drama from the office. Jyn would be joining him in a data analysis role come Monday, but the way he had talked to her for years about his coworkers made her feel like she already knew everyone.

She listened to his stories complete with enthusiastic hand gestures and couldn’t help but laugh. Neither one of them noticed that they hadn’t paid a second of attention to the horrific goings-on of the movie on her small tv. The food in front of them was picked at until not much was left but some lo mein and a few egg rolls. The credits had long rolled when Bodhi checked the time, “Geez, almost eleven. Want me to help you clean up?”

Jyn shrugged him off, “Just got a few boxes to toss in the fridge. You’re good, Bo,” she smiled.

The clattering of plates stacking told her he had intended to help no matter the answer.

“What’s this?” he called from the kitchen.

She turned to see him gesturing at the two loaves of bread on the cooling rack.

“Oh, just some banana bread.”

“But you can’t cook.”

“Shut up!”

“Why two?”

“One’s for the neighbors.”

“For the guy?” Bodhi suddenly seemed very interested, “I thought you wanted him to like you, not die of food poisoning.”

“Shut up,” she repeated, crossing the space to defend herself. “It’s just banana bread. An idiot could make it.”

“Let’s hope that luck came through for you,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Good night Bo,” she said pointing at the door with an annoyed but fond smile.

Day 13

Jyn paced back and forth in her entryway for several minutes trying to garner up the courage it would take to walk twenty feet to the right to knock on their door. It was half past nine, which felt like a reasonable enough hour to drop off a late morning treat on a Saturday. She took a deep breath and knocked, shifting back and forth on her heels, trying desperately to get all her nervous energy out before someone, hopefully Cassian opened the door.

After several seconds, there were no signs of life. She knocked once more and almost instantly regretted it when she heard a muffled voice call that they were coming.

The door opened to a very disheveled looking Cassian who must’ve rolled out of bed to answer her knock. His eyes were still heavy with sleep and his long hair was sticking up at angles that Jyn would’ve never thought possible. He was wearing faded blue plaid pajama pants and the softest grey tee shirt she had ever seen.

“Hi, so sorry. I um, I made some banana bread last night and thought you guys might like some,” she stammered suddenly feeling like crawling under their welcome mat and hiding.

She held the plate out awkwardly and turned to leave, but Cassian grabbed her wrist with a gentle hand.

“I love banana bread”, he said with a sincere smile, “Come in for a cup of coffee?”

“But I already woke you,” she said regretfully.

“I needed to wake up anyway,” he shrugged it off, inviting her in with a sweeping motion of his arm.

“We stayed up too late playing a game last night,” he admitted a little shyly, a chuckle spilling out of his upturned lips.

Jyn took in the state of their living area. The previously tidy space had been overtaken with a game board, dozens of cards and small tokens, a stack of empty pizza boxes, and some notebooks with scribbles in them tossed in the floor.

She smiled at the thought of them staying in on a Friday night to a rousing game of, whatever that was, as opposed to going out for drinks or dates. She had also noticed during her other brief visit that none of their pictures seemed to show a long term girlfriend (or boyfriend), and she counted that as another quiet victory.

Cassian had made his way into the kitchen, bare feet softly padding against the tiles. He moved quietly and surely, pulling out a bag of freshly ground beans from a local spot and filling a long necked kettle with water. The click of the gas igniting was the only noise in the room as he placed the kettle on the stove before turning to face Jyn once more. It was a comfortable silence, and she started to wonder why she had been so in her head about seeing him again. She pulled out a stool to sit at the counter opposite him and was the first to speak again.

“So, wild night?” she teased, leaning an elbow on the counter and cupping her chin.

He smiled shyly and looked down at the floor before meeting her gaze again, “Same thing we’ve done every weekend since college. Neither of us have ever been big party guys.”

“I was a wreck in uni,” she said wrinkling her nose.

“Were you now?”

“Well you know, lower drinking age and all that.”

“Sounds like you could give me a run for my money,” he laughed.

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of,” she raised an eyebrow and flashed a smile to match his.

“How did you end up here?” he turned to continue preparing the coffee, wetting a filter and placing it in the top of pristine chemex.

Jyn puffed out a breath of air while her mind spun, trying to summarize the last few months of her life.

“I was just ready to get out of London, so a friend put in a word for me at their office. And before I knew it I was on a plane and shopping for hand towels and lugging a heavy arse couch up a way too narrow stairwell,” she paused, “It all happened rather quickly. I’m still getting used to the time difference. I’m not usually an early riser.”

“A party girl like you?” he asked in mock surprise.

Jyn laughed, bright and clear showing all of her teeth, and Cassian’s heart skipped two beats. This conversation was quickly becoming a game to him of seeing if he could get her to laugh like that again.

“Well we can’t all be Monopoly jockeys,” she quipped.

“Hey now, Rivals for Catan is much more sophisticated than Monopoly, but I could easily beat you at Monopoly as well,” he countered.

They went back and forth, gliding through conversation topics like seasoned dance partners. Picking up where the other left off, following each other’s feet without ever breaking eye contact. It felt effortless, like how talking to someone you’ve known your whole life would. The kind of friend you stayed up whispering secrets under the covers in a twin bed with, laughing till you felt it in your ribs.

Jyn was mesmerized watching him work with his hands while he talked, carefully portioning out coffee grounds, adding bit by bit of water and taking the time to inhale as it bloomed and filled the kitchen with a warm, rich scent. Cassian seemed like a person who was full to the brim with passion for everything he touched. Jyn could tell he liked to put his whole heart into things. He didn’t seem fast paced and half assed like so many people she had met. Even the way he listened was completely engaged as they swapped stories of professors and classes and horrible group projects.

Cassian picked two mugs from the cabinet to the left of the stove and placed them on the counter in front of Jyn. One looked like a tourist mug from the Statue of Liberty, and the other was shaped like Darth Vader’s helmet. Jyn smiled at the little pieces of his life she was getting a glimpse of, and reached out eager hands for the Statue of Liberty one while he poured a golden brown stream into it, not nearly as warm as his eyes were when they caught a shot of the sun.

Cassian leaned against the counter and took a thoughtful sip from the remaining mug.

“Colombian,” he smiled, “One of my favorites.”

“Would it be a crime to ask for a spot of cream?” Jyn asked hiding her nose behind her mug.

“Ugh, you’re one of those people,” he feigned a chest pain, clutching at his shirt with his free hand.

“What, a normal person?” Melshi’s voice called groggily as he exited his room and joined the pair at the counter. His accent was extra thick in the morning, the sounds of his vowels were particularly drawn out.

He crossed to the fridge and pulled out a white and blue canister and offered it to Jyn, “Almond milk okay?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled gratefully, popping the top open with her thumbnail and dumping in a generous amount.

“Cass is a coffee snob. Don’t let it get to you,” Melshi smiled.

“Jyn brought banana bread,” Cassian gestured to the plastic wrapped plate on the edge of the counter.

“You can stay,” he said eagerly reaching for a stack of plates and forks.

“Oh no, I’m good. I have a whole loaf in my flat waiting for me,” she said declining the offer for a slice while the boys carved into it.

As they were taking their first bites, the watch on Jyn’s arm buzzed a tinny tune.

“Shoot, I’ve got to go give Lady her walk. Thank you for the coffee,” she drained the last of her cup and walked by them to set it in the sink.

“See you around. You’ll have to come over for game night one of these weeks,” Cassian called as she let herself to the door.

“I’d like that,” she smiled, giving a small wave before disappearing back into the hall.

Melshi waited until the lock clicked and spit a mouthful of bread directly into the trash can.

“Oh my god, what did she do to that?”

“It’s not that bad,” Cassian said completely unconvincingly.

Melshi wiped his mouth with a paper towel and scraped the rest of his slice into the trash, “Oh you’ve got it bad.”

“Whatever man,” he looked down at the plate of bread that was somehow impossibly wet and dry at the same time.

Melshi grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it as he laughed on his way to the bathroom.

Day 14

Sunday came with steady drizzles and low thunder. Not enough rain to flood the busy roads, but enough to make sure the bottoms of your pants were always wet. Puddles of grey water filled each crack and uneven spot in the pavement, rolling off of Jyn’s rubber boots, but sticking to Lady’s white fur.

Jyn didn’t mind the dreary weather. Lord knows London was rainy enough for a lifetime. She liked to imagine she was in a film scene, that she would stumble into the love of her life in a downpour. Maybe they would share an umbrella or squeeze in together at a bus stop. Maybe she would drop something and they would bump heads leaning down to pick it up. The cold air coming on definitely brought out the side of her that longed to cuddle up by the fire with someone.

She was still learning the area and definitely took a wrong turn or two on the way back to their building, but Lady didn’t mind the extra steps, though she was sure to take a long nap as a reward after the pair dried off.

Jyn decided to stop and check the mail room before heading up to her floor. She was expecting a package from her uncles of some tea and goodies. The key stuck multiple times in the stripped lock, and the hinges creaked loudly telling stories of years of use. With a smile on her face she plucked the brown box out and looked at her uncle Chirrut’s scrawling font addressing the package to her.

“Jyn?”

The call of her name pulled her attention to the door, and she quickly shut the small locker.

Cassian stood behind her with some bags in hand and his hood up. Specks of rain dotted his shoulders and the tip of his nose.

Lady gave a low growl and Jyn shushed her.

“I thought you had a dog not a horse,” he said with a small laugh, trying to mask his nervousness.

“She’s a Great Dane,” Jyn said with a toothy grin.

Lady came up to Jyn’s ribs. She had stark white fur with smoky grey markings and drooping red eyes, and she was sporting a yellow raincoat that covered part of her front legs and secured around her middle. Cassian had never seen an animal so huge.

“She’s very friendly,” Jyn assured.

Lady’s demeanor softened as she noticed Jyn talking to the stranger as if he was a friend. She pushed her big wet nose and towards Cassian’s hand to get a better whiff of his scent, but he retracted it quickly.

“She’s pretty,” he stammered, “Well I won’t keep you,” he nodded and backed out of the room.

“Wait, we’ll go up with you,” she followed him to the elevators.

He shifted the bags in his hand to call an elevator down and they stood in wait. Jyn almost thought she saw his hand shake as he reached out to push the button, but she wrote it off.

“Feels like home when the weather’s like this,” she remarked and he nodded.

“You just missed the snowy season. It should be pretty mild the rest of the year.”

The elevator gave a deep, faintly buzzing beep as the set of doors to the right opened up to let them in.

There was barely enough room for the three of them. Cassian swallowed hard as Lady stood between them, his skin pricking beneath his jeans from where he felt her fur brush up against them.

Jyn made a few more remarks about the weather and their walk that he barely registered as he prayed for the climb to go faster. When the doors finally opened, he rushed off, apologizing over his shoulder for leaving so quickly.

Jyn wondered if he was okay, watching as he dropped his key ring clumsily and fumbled with his door handle.

“I didn’t say anything weird, did I?” she asked out loud, mostly to herself. Lady cocked her head and followed her to their doorstep.

Day 26

Cassian had stopped by a few nights prior to invite Jyn to game night. She had offered to bake some cookies, to which he quickly declined and assured her that they would provide all the food.

She had been buzzing about it to Bodhi for days, and now that the evening was here, she was curled up with a flu. Her skin was a sickly shade of grey, and sweat coated her entire body while she simultaneously shook from chills. She had extra blankets piled on, but just a sports bra and sleep shorts on beneath the cocoon to try and even out her temperature.

A glass of tepid water sat untouched on the table beside her, the only thing she had had the strength to get on one of her trips to the restroom. She laid defeated, her mind in a thick fog and her body heavy with fatigue.

Bodhi had left work early yesterday for a long weekend upstate with his boyfriend, so she was left to her own devices. Hopefully it was something she could sleep off in 48 hours and crawl back into work on Monday, good as new.

She had spent the entire day in a fever dream trance, slipping in and out of consciousness, reliving some of her worst moments on repeat. She saw her parents, and longed for the cool touch of her mother’s hand on the burning skin of her cheeks and forehead, dreamed of the way her father had fed her soup when she was younger and unable to hold the spoon on her own. The ache of her heart rang loudest of all as her body groaned beneath the weight of whatever virus had laid claim to her cells.

——

Cassian checked the clock obsessively, wondering what might’ve held Jyn up. It was nearing eight o’clock, and he wondered if maybe she got stuck at work, or if something worse had happened.

“It’s all right, mate. I’m sure she’s got a good reason,” Meshi said softly, feeling too bad for his friend to even tease him.

They ended up watching Back to the Future and working their way through two large pizzas instead of introducing Jyn to the world of Catan, but in the back of his mind, Cassian couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Day 27

Cassian woke early on Saturday morning to a noise he couldn’t quite identify. It sounded like scratching at the front door, thick nails against wood over and over. In a sleepy haze, he tried to decipher what it could be, when he heard a high pitched whine.

“Is that a dog?” he asked out loud, as he kicked off his covers and exited his room to find an equally tired looking Melshi heading towards the front door.

The pair opened the door to find none other than Lady, Jyn’s Great Dane standing at their door looking particularly distressed.

“Lady? Is everything okay?” Cassian asked cautiously, stepping out into the hallway, only for the large dog to bound back towards the open door of Jyn’s flat and whine anxiously.

Seeing the door wide open made his stomach drop, and he rushed after the dog with Melshi close behind him. There were claw marks on the door frame and next to the knob. It must’ve taken her a while to get it open. All the lights were off and everything seemed tidy at first glance. He quickly ruled out a break in, and tried to figure out what was wrong.

Lady led them into the kitchen and nosed at her empty food and water bowls before stopping in the hall and huffing in the direction of the bedroom. Cassian walked past her and peered in the doorway to see what he thought was Jyn, wrapped in blankets and shivering violently. He checked the thermostat outside her door to see it was set way too low for this time of year and switched the heat on.

“Jyn?” he asked quietly.

“Hello?” she called back fearfully through chattering teeth.

“It’s me. Cassian,” he entered slowly and knelt by her bed.

Her eyes were glassy and skin damp with sweat, with hair mussed and matted on her forehead.

“Lady came to get us,” he explained softly, “How long have you been sick?”

“Yesterday morning,” she mumbled, drawing the blankets around her small frame, trembling.

Melshi poked his head through the door, “I’m gonna take the lass out to wee. Looks like she held it as long as she could, just cleaned up a spot in the kitchen.”

“Can you pick up some medicine? And soup?” Cassian asked quickly, “My wallet is on the counter.”

“Sure thing,” he nodded and retreated down the hall.

“I’ll be right back,” Cassian said, laying his hand on top of hers for just a second.

The space was already heating up. He checked the vents to make sure warm air was pouring out, pleased that her unit was still functional as sometimes theirs was spotty in the winter. In the kitchen, he filled a kettle and set it out, hoping Melshi would think to get some tea, then grabbed a rag and wet it, and poured a new glass of water.

Cassian crouched back by her bed and wiped at her forehead with the rag. He carefully cleaned her face, washing it of the dried on sweat, and smoothed her bangs back. She looked at him with thankful eyes, as green as ever, but missing the fire he noticed the first time they met.

“Can you drink some water for me?” he asked softly and she shook her head.

“C’mon, we can’t have you getting dehydrated.”

“Stomach hurts,” she muttered.

“Just a bit,” he pleaded, reaching his hand out to rest between her shoulders and prop her up enough to take a few sips of the glass he was holding out.

When she was done, she hit the pillow hard and another round of chills ran down her spine from the temperature of the water.

Cassian leaned back on his heels and pulled his hoodie off in one motion.

“Here,” he said offering it to her, not wanting to dig through her closet or intrude any more than he had to, knowing it would help to warm her up.

She reluctantly unwound herself from the blankets and pulled the hoodie over her head.

“Do you have another set of sheets?” he asked.

“Closet,” she pointed to the door in the hall.

He grabbed a fresh set of navy blue sheets and an extra quilt and exchanged them for the old ones he had found her in. Even with the hoodie that was still warm and smelled quite a bit like him, her body continued to shake.

“Hold me?” she asked in an impossibly small voice.

Cassian swallowed hard, “Of course, yeah.” He walked to the other side of her bed and scooted the quilt a little closer to her, not crawling beneath it though he desperately wanted to. The mattress sank beneath his added weight and the metal frame creaked as he adjusted his limbs and rolled onto his side, tucking himself around her. He pulled the lump of blankets against his chest and tentatively draped his arm around her waist. She pressed back into him, desperate to share the warmth of his body. The back of her head tucked under his chin, the hood was still pulled up cocooning her. He nuzzled his nose into the it slightly as he closed his eyes and willed her to stop shaking.

It wasn’t until this moment that he allowed himself to exhale. Being woken up by a horse sized dog and walking up to her door wide open had sent his heart into a panic that he had shoved down, not wanting to lose his cool and compromise whatever situation it was that she was in. He had felt a twinge in his gut since last night, like he knew she needed him.

“I got you,” he whispered against the hood on her head.

Jyn’s breathing steadied, and exhaustion overcame her. Within two minutes, she was open mouth snoring, just a small growl coming from the back of her throat as she slept in his arms.

Cassian thanked whatever god might be listening that she was safe in his arms right now. He didn’t know much about her at all, and definitely wasn’t familiar with her sleeping habits, so he did his best to stay as still as possible. Just deep breaths and a heartbeat against her back, no matter how badly he wanted to trace her arms, wipe her bangs from her forehead, press a kiss to her shoulders. From the clock on her night table, he could tell about an hour had passed since they first arrived when he heard Melshi and Lady come back through the front door.

He heard the clack of Lady’s nails on the wood floor and the clink of her leash hitting the kitchen counter when Melshi laid it down. Then, he heard kibble filling her bowl and the rush of water from the tap. There was a rustling of bags as well as he heard Melshi sorting through everything. Then the floor creaking slightly as his friend made his way down the hall.

He peeked into the room, face softening when he saw the sleeping girl in Cassian’s arms.

“Food?” he mouthed.

“Not yet,” Cassian mouthed back.

Melshi gave him a thumbs up and let himself back into the rest of the apartment. He decided to watch some tv with Lady until Jyn woke up, then they would both probably head back to their own flat for the day.

Cassian felt his body relaxing against hers. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock. Lady had woken them up almost two hours ago which was early on a weekend for him. His eyes grew heavier from their shared warmth and proximity, and he allowed himself the reverie of imagining this would one day be how they always woke up. Early Saturday sunlight, hazy feeling of love.

——

When he felt Jyn stirring in his arms, he peeked at the clock to see it nearing ten. Jyn rotated to where she was now facing him. Lips parted, breathing softly against his cheek. He felt his own breath hitch at the sight of her. Even sick, she was breathtaking. He drank in this moment greedily, knowing any minute now, she would wake, and he would be apart from her again. Now that he had known proximity, distance would never do. He craved the nearness of her orbit, to know the touch of her mouth against his. He suddenly felt like he needed to take a cold shower and jumped from his spot next to her, exiting the room as quietly as he could.

He closed the bathroom door behind himself and splashed cold water on his face. His cheeks were flushed with desire, and he hated himself for not being able to swallow it down. She was sick, that was all. He wouldn’t be in this situation if she wasn’t vulnerable, if she wasn’t in need.

Cassian gripped the sides of the sink tightly, doing his best to steady his breathing and rein in his thoughts. This wasn’t the time or place to be having these feelings. He switched back into caretaker mode and headed into the kitchen to see what Melshi had brought back from his outing.

“Matzo ball soup in the fridge, NyQuil on the counter, oh, and I got some Gatorade,” he called from the couch where lady was sprawled with her head in his lap.

“Perfect, thank you,” Cassian responded, opening her cabinets in search of a pot to reheat the soup in.

“Enjoy your nap, lover boy?” Melshi asked with a small quirk of a smile.

“Shut up,” Cassian, turned to face the stove, hoping to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“What? You look good together is all I’m saying.”

Cassian ignored his comment, dumping the soup from the plastic container it came in into a small saucepan and finally putting on the kettle he had filled earlier.

“Is she up?”

“No, but I think she will be soon. I heard her stomach growling. I’m not sure when the last time she ate was.”

“We’ll get her set up and head on back. I can stop by and let Lady girl out again later.”

“I’ll probably stay a while if she wants,” Cass called back, crossing his arms over his middle and leaning back against the counter while he waited for everything to heat up.

Melshi decided not to comment, and instead just smiled at the large dog in his lap, turning his attention back to the local news that was droning in the background.

——

Jyn woke to a pounding headache. The sun streaming in through her drapeless windows stung her eyes as she tried to piece together the last 24 hours with blurry vision. She buried her face in the hoodie and breathed deep. Everything came trickling in like a gentle stream. Cassian. The sound of his voice. The softness of his eyes. The feel of his arms around her. She felt lightheaded. Maybe it was the sickness, but maybe it was him.

She struggled to a sitting position and ran her hands through her hair. A warm shower later would help her to feel almost human, but she didn’t have the strength for that just yet. She pulled a pair of leggings off the pile in her chair and labored to pull them over her bare legs before padding down the hall, leaning against the wall for support.

Lady scrambled across the living room when she heard Jyn groan softly, drawing Cassian’s attention to the edge of the kitchen.

“Hi girl,” Jyn said with a small voice, a weak hand reaching to stroke Lady’s face while she wagged gently and pressed her nose into Jyn’s stomach.

Cassian felt like he had the wind knocked out of him seeing her standing there in his hoodie dwarfing her frame. The sleeves fell way past her hands, and the hem hung below her hips where it rested smugly above his. She looked like she was about to keel over, and he ducked under her arm just in time to give her more support.

“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” he chastised.

“I’m hungry,” she grumbled softly. All of her weight rested against his chest as she leaned her head in and closed her eyes.

He scooped her up with ease and carried her across the rest of the flat to the couch. Melshi was rearranging the cushions and holding up a blanket to drape over her while Cassian nestled her into the warm spot that his friend had been sitting in.

“Thank you,” she said with a small smile.

Jyn hated needing people. She loathed feeling helpless or inept, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t thankful to have someone there with her when the prior night she had been quite certain she was dying.

The boys scooted the table closer to the sofa and set her up with everything she could need. There was a steaming bowl of soup, two DayQuil tablets next to a glass of water, a bottle of juice Melshi had picked up from the deli, and a sleeve of crackers.

After about half a bowl of soup, she started to perk up a little bit, her body thankful to have energy again. She then placed the two orange pills on her tongue and swallowed them down with greedy gulps of juice. The pallor of her skin started to fade back into her normal coloring.

“Wait, so how did you get in?” she asked again, her brow furrowed tightly as she listened to the pair recount the story from that morning.

“My dog came to get you?” she asked skeptically.

“Swear on my life,” Melshi laughed.

“I felt so bad that I couldn’t take her out. I didn’t know who to call,” she lamented, reaching out to pet Lady’s head which was perched on the edge of the couch keeping a watchful eye on Jyn.

“She and I are great friends now,” Melshi smiled cheekily, “I don’t mind helping out with her while you’re on the mend.”

“Thank you,” Jyn smiled, suddenly feeling the weight of sleep overcome her again.

“I think I’m going to take another nap.”

“We’ll get out of your hair then,” Melshi announced, clearing the dishes from in front of her and carrying them to the kitchen.

Cassian didn’t feel right leaving just yet, and decided to listen to his gut like he should’ve last night.

“I’ll stay a little while longer if you don’t mind,” he said with a small smile.

Jyn gave him a dopey smile of her own as she sunk back into the pillow nest they had made for her, “I’d like that.”

Cassian rose to meet Melshi at the door, “I’ll be there in a minute,” he said in a low voice.

“Yeah yeah, Romeo,” Melshi muttered with a wink.

Cassian rolled his eyes and locked the door behind Melshi.

“Do you want me to help you to bed?” he asked, taking a seat next to her and feeling her forehead with the back of his hand to check for a fever. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes, lamenting that she wouldn’t be sick forever and soon this attention would end.

“Just stay close,” she asked quietly, nestling her pillow against his thigh and pulling the blanket up to her neck. Her body buzzed with warmth from the combination of food, medication, and affection.

Cassian reached a tentative hand down and smoothed it through her hair. The side of her cheek turned up in a smile, and he took it as permission to keep going. His fingers ran along her scalp, separating out tangled strands of hair and brushing through them. Just as quickly as she had fallen asleep this morning, she was softly snoring again, relishing in the gentle touches he was offering her. She wanted to reach out with greedy hands and take every bit she could. She felt like a kid seeing a piñata burst for the first time, taking every bit for herself. But the rational part of her reminded her to pace herself, reminded her there was time. Time to know him. Time to be known.

She dozed in and out for a few hours, just content for her body and mind to be at rest. Cassian stayed beside her like a sentinel, strong arm resting down around her shoulder and cupping her elbow. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed circles over the sharp bone.

At one point she head the low timbre of his voice speaking softly to Lady. She kept her eyes closed, but listened closely to his words.

“You were a very brave girl this morning, you know that? Taking care of your mom like that. Smart girl,” he praised gently.

Though he had previously been apprehensive of her, she quickly proved that his old fears were not a good metric to judge people, or animals, by.

He looked fondly at the sleeping girl next to him and started to open himself up to the possibility of future days spent in each other’s company. Maybe he wouldn’t always wake at night clutching his chest, aching desperately for the things he lost. Maybe he wouldn’t always be waiting for the other shoe drop, because maybe, this time, there was no other shoe.

Day 37

That weekend came and went and so did a whole other week before Jyn really started feeling like herself. It took a while for her appetite to come back and for the fatigue to really let go of its grip on her.

Just the simple act of riding the train to and from work in the mornings and evenings depleted all of her extra energy. Her flat was in desperate need of a cleaning, and all of her messages were going unanswered. It wasn’t until she was finally folding a pile of laundry that had grown nearly as tall as her that she fully caught Bodhi up on the weekend he had been away.

Her phone sat on the edge of her bed, his incredulous voice coming through the speaker.

“He gave you his hoodie? He stayed to watch while you slept? He walked your giant dog that he definitely does not like? Babes, he likes you.”

“He does not. He was just being a good friend,” she scoffed as she turned the arms of his hoodie the right way and laid it across her lap. She hadn’t wanted to wash it and lose what was left of his scent, but she knew she couldn’t keep it covered in her germs forever. The last thing she wanted was to get one of them sick again. Her arms almost moved to pull it on over her old tee shirt, but she stopped herself. It was best to give it back to him, to not get caught up in a runway fantasy where he was her boyfriend come to save her.

She didn’t need saving, but she did need looking after sometimes, and she would be lying to herself is she said she didn’t wish he was the one to look after her.

——

“C’mon Jyn, you stupid girl,” Jyn chastised herself in the mirror. She had been laboring over a text to Cassian for two hours. Two. Hours. Staring at a phone screen and fretting about wording and whether or not to use emojis.

“It’s just a text message,” she reminded herself as her thumb hovered over the send key before pressing it with a sharp inhale.

Hey Cassian, I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner tomorrow just to say thanks for everything. 7 o’clock at Barbuto. Let me know.

He replied almost immediately, causing her to fumble with her phone when she saw the bubbles indicating he was typing.

Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll be there :)

“Fuck yeah,” she whispered to herself, doing a little dance in her bathroom, unknowing that he was on the other side of the wall pumping his fist in the air.

Day 38

There was never a stage of her life where Jyn enjoyed dressing up. Not for her father’s achievement dinners when she was a child, not in uni for formals, and not now, getting ready for a semi kind of date with the boy who took her breath away. She just felt more herself dressed down in a casual setting. Fancy restaurants were too high stakes for someone who swore as much as she did. But still, she pulled on her one nice dress and a pair of boots with a small heel. She fluffed out her bangs to make sure they were even, and even attempted a basic smoky eye. Her old roommate taught her the beauty of smudging everything and making it look intentional rather than messy.

When she was in her taxi on the way to the restaurant, she began to wonder whether or not they just should’ve rode together. That would’ve made sense, but what if it was awkward? Suddenly, a barrage of doubts started ringing in her ears while she glanced at the time nervously. She woas somehow early and would therefore have plenty of time to rethink every decision she had ever made while she waited for Cassian.

She ordered a gin and tonic at the bar while she waited for her table to be ready, hoping a small buzz would calm her nerves. One drink turned into two and then three as she waited and waited with no word from Cassian.

The waiter approached with a sympathetic smile, “Would you like to order anything, miss?”

“No, sorry. You can pass it on to someone else who actually cares enough to show up,” she said with an air of bitterness, fishing in her wallet for a pile of cash and leaving it on the table. She tipped back her glass and finished the last of her drink, ice clinking loudly as she set it back down unceremoniously.

Jyn staggered out of the restaurant, half hatred, half alcohol, completely embarrassed. She felt like a fool for thinking the story could end any way but this.

When she entered her flat again for the evening, she beelined straight for her bedroom to scrawl a message on a pink sticky note. With a slap, she stuck it to the front of Cassian’s hoodie, and marched it to their doorstep, leaving it for him to find whenever he made it back from whatever was clearly better than spending an evening with her.

Back inside for good this time, she peeled her boots off by the door and almost broke the zipper on her dress from yanking it down her side so hard. She wet a rag and tried to scrub the makeup from her eyes, ending up looking like an even more pathetic drunk girl with every swipe. With eyeliner still smudged beneath her tearful eyes, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old tee shirt, and resigned herself to the couch. She checked her phone one last time to see still no text from Cassian, and threw it on the table, finally breaking down. The tears spilled eagerly down her face, big and wet like a sad cartoon character and she felt even more ridiculous and embarrassed for getting worked up over a boy. She cried herself raw while Lady looked at her with a concerned gaze.

“I should’ve known I was making it up, Lady. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down,” she lamented, a weary hand rubbing across her forehead.

Between the crying and the alcohol, her head began to throb, and she resigned herself to polishing off the pint of chocolate chip ice cream she had been saving for as a midnight snack in lieu of the lasagna she had spent all day thinking about. She turned on some movie she had seen a dozen times before and tried to ignore the creeping anxiety she felt when she thought about the awkward encounter that she would have when she inevitably had to face Cassian again.

Around eleven, she heard footsteps in the hallway, first to their door, then rushing back to hers.

A tentative knock.

“Jyn?” his voice was muffled by the door.

She bit her tongue, not wanting to make any noise to signal that she might be awake.

“Jyn, if you’re there, I am so sorry. I have a reason for not showing up tonight, and I’m sure you’ll never believe me, but I really hope you’ll give me another chance.”

A fresh wave of tears started falling without warning as she clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the small sob that squeaked out.

Cassian pressed his hand against the door, hoping that he could make it up to her some day. He walked back to their apartment with heavy shoulders and leaned down to scoop his hoodie up off the door mat where it he had found it sitting with a note that simply said, “thanks for everything,” and then he broke too.

Day 49

Jyn had not seen or spoken to Cassian since that night. He never texted, never called. By now, she had a good feeling of his schedule, and made a point to only take Lady out when she knew he was at work or not around. Sometimes she would watch the sidewalk from her window until she was sure she saw a glimpse of him exiting, wait five minutes, and then leave herself.

She was utterly humiliated and numb from the whole ordeal, deciding it was best to continue on as if they were strangers, which they practically were. Strangers that had shared coffee and childhood stories. Strangers that slept in the same bed that one time. Strangers that felt like they were touching a live wire every time they made eye contact.

Bodhi had no explanation for what could have happened, but he kept urging her to give him another chance.

“Please at least give him the chance to explain himself,” he pleaded as they split an Italian sandwich in the break room.

Jyn gave him a dead panned look that said “are you fucking kidding me” as she peeled the pepperoncinis off her half.

“Why didn’t he text me, Bodhi?”

“I don’t know! But I trust this guy. I know he isn’t an asshole like the rest of them.”

“He certainly isn’t going above and beyond to make me think that,” she grumbled.

“He wouldn’t have done all those things if he was an asshole. That’s a lot of effort to go through if you’re just trying to get in someone’s pants.”

“Gross.”

“But true,” he raised his eyebrow and bit into his sandwich.

“I don’t know, maybe. I just don’t even think I can look him in the eye.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Shut up,” she snorted.

——

Jyn trudged through the door that evening in defeat. Her week had been hell. Just today on her way home, a car splashed stagnant water on her just before she reached her apartment building, she had snagged her skirt on something and torn it all the way up the side, and her favorite dim sum place had been closed for a family emergency.

Her sour mood was inevitable, and she didn’t even feel like faking happy at this point. Her legs were sticky from sweat and the puddle she got bathed in. She hoped her shoes weren’t ruined as they squished beneath her with each step. She carefully peeled off her wet clothes and kicked them into a pile in the corner to deal with later. A hot shower would solve at least a dozen of her current problems. She struggled with the loose shower knob and prayed tonight wasn’t the night it broke off completely. Before the thought even left her head, she heard a pathetic crack as it came off in her hand.

“Oh come the fuck on,” she said through gritted teeth, grasping at the stump of a knob and trying to turn it any way to no avail. Cold water drenched the rest of her as she cursed, now completely soaked and full to the brim with rage. She felt and looked as pissed off as a wet cat.

She knew there was nothing in her tool kit she could grab to twist the handle and turn it back off.

“No, no I won’t do it. You’ve got to be kidding me. Fuck.”

She swallowed down the last ounce of pride she had that by this point was clinging to her with a white knuckle grip, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and walked to her neighbors’ door in defeat. Her hair was stringy and wet, sending streams of ice cold water down her bare shoulders.

This time, she didn’t even try to work up courage to knock, knowing how pathetic she would look to either party who opened the door, but she really hoped it was Melshi.

The door opened almost instantly, and she found herself face to face with the man she had been avoiding.

“Jyn? What happened? Are you okay?” Cassian’s face was painted with ten levels of concern as he took in the sight of her for the first time in weeks.

“I just need to borrow some pliers,” she said, trying not to make eye contact, “My shower handle came off.”

“Hold on, let me help you,” he turned to grab their toolbox from the top of the fridge and she groaned internally.

“I just need the pliers, if yo—“

“Let. Me. Help. You,” he said firmly, and added on a, “Please,” with those eyes that made him look like a kicked puppy.

The day she had been dreading was here. And not only was it here, she was half dressed, soaking wet, and starving. Par for the course for her life.

She turned wordlessly on her heel and led him through her apartment and into her bathroom.

“It’s been on the verge of breaking for a while. It was brittle and stuck a lot when I moved in,” she explained, crossing her arms over her chest as he tried to assess the damage.

All that was left was a nub barely a centimeter long. He tried a few different angles and grasps with the pliers, but each one slipped right off.

He grunted in frustration as it became apparent to him that the only way to get a secure grip was to stand under the stream of water.

“I can do it,” she offered.

“Please let me,” he said again, a firm hand reaching out to hold her wrist, not letting her dodge his eye contact this time. Deep regret sat heavy in his dark irises as they bore into her own and pleaded for a shot at forgiveness.

She nodded almost imperceptibly, hoping the tears she felt creeping into her vision weren’t as obvious to anyone on the outside.

Cassian climbed into her shower and gritted his teeth as he yanked on the fixture three times before it switched off with a loud groan. The tan henley shirt he had been wearing was soaked along with his hair. He pushed it back from his forehead and sputtered out a mouthful of water, and Jyn couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Let me get you a towel,” she leaned into the hall to pop open the linen closet and pull a stack of clean towels out for the both of them.

They both started with the ends of their hair, scrunching out huge pockets of cold water.

“The fixtures in this place are shit,” he commiserated.

“You can say that again,” she laughed lightly.

“Jyn,” he started.

“You don’t have to,” she began.

“I do though,” he said firmly with pleading eyes, “Please, you have to let me explain.”

She swallowed hard and leaned back against the cool tile wall, raising her eyebrows as if to say “out with it.”

“So that day, I got held up at the office. Just for a few minutes. One of the interns accidentally wiped a hard drive while trying to recover a corrupted file. Everyone else was leaving, I didn’t want to leave her there alone. She was terrified,” he started, and Jyn’s heart thawed the smallest bit listening to him talk about helping a scared college student out.

“That only took a few minutes though. But, it took long enough that I missed my first train and had to wait another twenty minutes for the second one. I was just pulling my phone out to text you that I would be late, and a fight broke out on the platform. These two guys started throwing blows and tumbled over onto the tracks. I jumped down to pull them up before another train pulled in, and my phone fell out of my pocket. I saw it get obliterated and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

So that’s why he hadn’t texted her. The fear of rejection loosened another prong from her tired heart.

“Then the police showed up, and I got taken in for questioning and as a witness. They didn’t let me go until after ten that night. And when I got home and saw my hoodie, I just knew you must’ve been so hurt,” he lamented. He had made his way closer to her now, closing the gap that had been separating them, mending the wound in her heart as well when he spoke.

“Jyn,” he brushed the still damp hair back from her eyes, “There is nothing on the planet that could have kept me from you. You have to believe me,” he whispered.

“Of course I believe you,” she looked down at the ground suddenly feeling dizzy from his closeness and the familiarity of his scent that she had missed every night since she gave him back the hoodie.

His lips inched closer to hers, hovering so she could feel his breath falling on her chin and the prickles of his mustache.

“Your move, Jyn. I need to know you want this, because I want it so badly,” he whispered hoarsely, lips brushing against hers as tried to hold on to his resolve.

A breath hitched in her throat as she finally allowed the band of tension to snap and pulled him into her hungrily, fervently.

Kissing Jyn was like coming home after a long day. She was warm against him, tongue sweet and welcoming. He allowed one of his hands to dip under the hem of her shirt and roam up the expanse of her back, pressing his wide palm flat against her soft skin.

Jyn tangled a hand in his hair and the other rested at his hip, her pinky finger dipping into the waist band of his pants and sending a heat through his body.

Cassian could feel a newfound tension welling inside of him. Now that he finally had a taste of the thing he had longed for, he wanted to dive in headfirst, to be completely submerged in their collision. Their hands started to get more desperate, pulling at clothes and dragging nails across skin. But what really did him in was the breathy moan that fell from her lips when he nipped at the skin between her neck and shoulder.

He didn’t want to, but he needed to pull away.

“Wait, wait.”

Jyn was suddenly afraid she had gone too far too fast.

Cassian read the look on her face and immediately tried to dispel any fear, “No, it’s not like that. If I don’t stop now, I’m afraid I never will.”

Her lips quirked into a mischievous smile, “And if I say that’s okay with me?”

He held up a finger, “Ah, wait. You need a shower. And so do I. Let’s start there and pick up where we left off after dinner,” he smiled.

Jyn frowned, bottom lip puckering out in a way that drove him crazy. Cassian leaned down to press two more kisses to the swollen pink skin before telling her to go grab clean clothes. He pinched her ass on the way out the door, and she swatted at his hand half heartedly.

He finally felt like he could breathe again.

She finally felt like she could breathe again.

——

Walking in to Cassian’s apartment with half wet hair and disheveled clothes drew quite a look from Melshi.

“I see you two made up,” he grinned from the couch.

“Man, shut up,” Cassian hissed.

“My shower broke,” Jyn explained lamely, her arms full of toiletries and a fresh towel.

“It’s just through here,” Cassian said softly, his hand on the small of her back as she disappeared down the hall.

As soon as he heard the lock click in place, he turned on his heel to stare daggers into his roommate.

“Don’t fuck this up.”

“I was gonna say the same to you, mate.”

Cassian leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed his face in his hands as he tried to process the last thirty minutes of his life.

“Do you want me to disappear? ‘Cause I can disappear,” Melshi offered, already grabbing his phone and the bag of chips he had propped next to him on the couch.

“Nah, stay. I don’t want to make it any weirder than it’s already been.”

“Good weird? Bad weird?”

“Great weird,” Cass smiled almost wistfully, causing his roommate to snort.

In the bathroom, Jyn’s heart pounded as her imagination ran wild. Though their last interaction had been pretty hot and heavy, she was caught up in thinking about the sight of her shampoo next to his. She thought of his bare feet on the tile, trimming up his beard in the morning while she showered. She thought of shared kisses with still wet noses and cheeks flushed from the steam, and when the time came for body wash, she reached for his instead of hers, hoping the scent would linger and lay gently on her sheets tonight while she tried to sleep thinking about the boy next door.

Day ???

Spring faded into summer, and summer into fall. The days grew impossibly longer, than too short to feel like you had ever gotten enough done.

The clock was nearing midnight as Cassian tiptoed through his dark apartment with a plate of warm cookies in hand. He bumped his bedroom door open with his hip and saw Jyn adding an extra blanket on her side the bed. She turned to smile at him when she heard the click of the knob closing behind him. He wasn’t sure when it was that she took his grey sleep shirt, only that he liked the look of it better on her than he ever did on his own body.

The bedside table on that side of the room now held her fan that she ran year round because she liked the noise, hence the extra blanket. Beside it sat her phone charger, allergy medication, and a book she had been thumbing through in her downtime.

His space had become her space and vice versa. They took up an unapologetic amount of space in each other’s homes and hearts, one of those couples who made eyes at each other across every room at every gathering.

Just earlier tonight, they had dipped out of a gathering early to go watch the newest installment of a docuseries that they had been looking forward to.

Cassian climbed into bed and nestled the plate of cookies between the two of them while Jyn flipped through the channels, pointing the remote at the tv on top of his dresser. She pressed her face up against his shoulder and he breathed in the scent of her freshly washed hair and the moisturizer she applied before bed.

“Thank you for going with me tonight,” he whispered into the crown of her head, leaving a lingering kiss there.

“And thank you for leaving with me when things got loud,” she angled her head slightly to look into his eyes.

“I’ll always follow you home,” he murmured.

She pressed her lips to his before turning back to face the television.

In the room next door, Melshi was sprawled on his bed with Lady taking up the other half, both of them snoring into the night.

[girlactionfigure]

The guard passed it on to her husband Kurt, but for decades the couple's youngest son, Frank, was unable to read the handwritten note.

Here, 75 years after the death camp was liberated, he tells Sky News how it felt to read the letter which is now on display to visitors at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum: 

My father, mother and older brother and I were sent to Auschwitz in December 1943.

A transport of around 5,000 inmates had arrived at the camp in September before us and we were part of the second batch of 5,000.

We had no idea why we were there.

We were kept in a Czech family camp which was a ploy by the Nazis to show the International Red Cross that Czech Jews were being well looked after.

At the time, we had no idea why the family camp was even established because most of the time, when children arrived at the Auschwitz railway station, they were almost immediately killed in the gas chambers.

The International Red Cross never inspected Auschwitz so the Nazis gassed and killed most of the September transport.

This was in the March and April of 1944.

Then a few months later, they decided to make a selection from the second group which my family and I were in.

We all lined up in front of notorious SS doctor Josef Mengele, nicknamed the Angel of Death, who selected who would live or die.

My brother John, who was four years older than me, was handicapped and he was chosen to die.

And, because I was less than 12 years old, I was also put on death row.

Vilma Grunwald with her sons John (left) and Frank (then known as Misa). Pic: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

We were both standing in the line when one of the prisoners I had been working for as a messenger came over and quickly moved me into a group of older children.

He had saved my life.

But when my mother found out that John, who was 16, was going to be gassed, she decided to stay with him.

She could not bear the idea of him going into the gas chamber by himself.

About five days after the selection, she wrote a letter to my father, who had been moved to a medical camp because he was a physician.

She gave it to a guard and - despite the massive size of Auschwitz - he delivered it to my father.

There were between 30,000 and 40,000 guards in the camp and many of them were not SS.

Some of them were older military people in their 50s and 60s who had not been brainwashed by the Nazi regime.

The letter that Vilma Grunwald wrote to her husband before she died. Pic: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

My mother, who was always a good judge of character, had picked the right person.

A few months later, Auschwitz was liberated, and I was reunited with my father - by this time I was in Austria and he was in Germany.

It was then he told me he had a letter from my mother, written to him shortly before she and my brother were taken on trucks to the gas chambers.

He told me it was a goodbye, a loving goodbye to him, and that my mother had wished him a good life.

I was only 12 years old at the time, so it was too painful to read and I pushed it to the back of my mind.

We lived in London for two years, and then moved to New York City in 1951.

My father practised medicine there and I went to the Pratt Institute and studied industrial design.

I didn't see the note until after my father died in 1967 and I was sorting out his possessions.

I had thought about it many times over the years and I was curious, but I knew it would be too depressing and upsetting to read.

Read More: Here

[punkeropercyjackson]

I want to know everything about Nia!

AND MONTHS LATER,YOU ARE FINALLY GETTING HIM!!!!

Nia The Dragon Nomad,born just Nia,just Nia and is 16 at the start of the series

His version of the franchise is called 'Avatar:The Airbender Legacies' and it's 4 books instead of 3 and the 4th one is 'Book 4:Air'

He's half Air Nomad,half Fire Nation but specifically the black etchnic subgroup in the comics you helped me discover which is what led to his creation!!As pointed out by jewish Atla fans,it would be more realistic for the AN to have a small surviving population that went into hiding after the Air Nomad Genocide and Nia's mom is a descendant of them!His parents names are Yung and Dahla and Nia's mixed heritage is symbolism for the coming era of peace

Nia was born in the Fire Nation as lower class,Dahla a homemaker and Yung a chef at the Fire Nation Palace.Dahla has Air Nomad features but never practiced her culture for safety so nobody could point it out without sounding like a maniac and Yung's job led to Nia meeting Zuko when they were 4 years old and becoming best friends and keeping it a secret since Zuko and Azula weren't allowed to befriend 'peasents'(hence why Ozai encouraged Azula to only interact with Mai and Ty Lee).Nia was unaware of not being fully FN but his dad was one of the first prisoner's of The Boiling Rock for a crime he didn't commit and this led to to his mom using Airbending publicly to try to stop him from being taken away so the next day,their house was burned down with her in it by Fire Nation supremacists and Nia being only 13 at the time had no choice but to run away and become a Nomad,leaving Zuko a tear stainned letter in pink ink explaining what happened and telling him how much he loved him as a person and for being his best friend(Nia wouldn't find out Dahla had been an Air Nomad for a long time,not being present when she bended and Zuko got a lot meaner after he left since he was his only real loved one due to Ursa's dissaperance and desperately looked for clues on him,seeing him everywhere even though he was gone)

Nia learned firebending on his own and made a name for himself on his travels by helping people with kindness and resources and fighting for them,committing various anti-imperialist crimes.During this time,he realized he's trans and is a woman and a man at the same time and his gender presentation is very feminine but he uses only masculine ponouns!!He's also autistic,adhd,mdd and anxious and his hair is 4b textured

Personality wise,Nia is very much an Air Nomad-He's super bubbly,openly kind and gentle,silly,optimistic,unrestrained and open-minded.He follows the no kill rule as a buddhist but also believes in severe brutality and has anger issues,low self-eestem and a snarky sense of humor,is very older sisterly/pseudo-momish as a coping mechanism from having almost no positive adult figures as a kid and being picked on by other kids and even adults all the time and his interests are pink/pastel things,suncakes,art,games,animal life and dancing!!!

He's introduced in 'The Warriors of Kyoshi' as he was on Kyoshi Island due to his travels and joins the Gaang because of his instant platonic connection with Aang.Aang says there's something familiar about Nia he can't quite place and he takes on the mom friend title instead of Katara since he's the eldest now and actually did it to himself instead of parentification like her.The two girls bond over being feminine and him and Sokka bicker all the time due to opposite personalities but they really are friends and Kataang is still a thing here so Nia wingmans them

It takes a hot minute for Zunia to reunite(as in several episodes)but Zuko gets hints to it through reports from his crew and is in denial of it at first only because he dosen't want his hopes to be crushed.We get flashbacks to their childhood days,including Zuko drawing both of them as dragons and Nia making strawberry suncakes for the first time for them to share as foreshadowing and this makes their reunion all the more upsetting because they don't even recognize eachother at first due to Nia's complete style change and Zuko's scar,plus the puberty,on top of his old best friend hunting down his new best friend at the order of his dad who he always made him feel safe from.There's a lot of tears and yelling and Nia has to be comforted by his honorary younger siblings afterwards and Zuko has to pretend nothing happened for the sake of not putting him in danger

Nia's very strong and smart so he's a pretty useful addition to The Gaang and provides comedy/jokes too and Aang tells him about The Air Nomads for funsies which leads to

The 'Dahla was actually an Air Nomad' drops happens in 'The Avatar State' when Aang and Nia are trying to figure out Avatar stuff together and it leds to spiritual magic jizz revealing it through Nia's soul.They're heavily shocked but Aang bursts into happy tears and tackle hugs Nia,rambling about how happy he is that he's not actually The Last Airbender and Nia smiles and agrees,telling him he already thinks of him as his little brother and Aang views him as his older sister so they officially dub eachother 'The Flight Siblings',Sokka telling them it's a stupid name and Katara drops water him for it.In 'The Blue Spirit',Nia had romantic moments with Zuko in his Blue Spirit suit so he gains a dreamy crush on him that's played for irony and second-hand embarrasment humor.Aang becomes Nia's Airbender Master starting in 'Nomads,Leafs and Forevers' and this strengthens their bond big time

Nia rejected Jet's attempted flirtatiouns on first meeting by saying 'I came here to make friends-Only friends so instead of trying something,try covering my back' and they got along well from then on even post 'betrayal',Toph dissed him at first because of how girly Nia but after they actually talked they clicked perfectly,'The Tale of Nia' replaces Iroh's section and it's about him saving a group of kids from Earth Kingdom propaganda by impressing them and being sweet to them and it's implied they grew up to be freedom fighters and 'The Tale of Zuko' is a gag bit where girls keep trying to hit on him but he keeps comparing them to Nia subcounciously so none of them stick,Ty Lee let's out a loud squee when she meets Nia again face to face and squishes him up in a hug as she says she's missed seeing his pretty pink face(platonically)and Mai drawls that he's gotten even weirder and Azula adresses him as 'Nini' when she was younger but also 'The Avatar's babysitter' now and they don't know eachother at all well since Ozai didn't even know about Nia being best friends with his son

Jet survives his attempted assisination by the Dai Li and joins the Gaang as it's 'token bad' teammate(not really,he's just genuinely radical).The shippy undertones between him and Katara are gone as they turn into platonic close friends and he acts as the cool bitchy but reliable older brother.Hama is also never villanized but potrayed as a tragic figure and a badass who gets reperations from the Fire Nation and basically adopts the Gaang as her grandkids,Katara still being scared of Bloodbending and choosing not to kill Yon Rha so Hama does the job for her since Kya was her childhood friend's daughter and she's built for killing fascists already,not being only 14.Yung and Dahla are given big significance on Nia's story as his parents and how they influenced him as a person like Zuko and their own life experiences did and 'The Dragon Nomad' is a title given to him pre-series because of being a traveling firebender but also has a double meaning that wasn't even intentional in-universe and there's quips about it as a running gag

Nia's none too eager to return to The Fire Nation but powers through and teaches his teammates how to blend in and takes them to a clothing store he used to go to as a kid and they have a positive talk with the owner not recognizing them until they all leave and as they exited,they make a comical expression and whisper 'I always knew that kid wasn't dead!I don't think that little airhead can even die!'.As they settle in,Nia can't help but go visit where his old home used to be to see nobody had even bothered picking things up or replacing it with a new building and it makes them tear up and he brakes down on his knees,screaming about how much he hates fire as he breathes pink flames from his mouth and dosen't even notice.He stays that way for a solid onscreen 30 seconds and is found by Zuko who frantically picks him up and hides him in an ally with him before soldiers can find him.He dosen't get to comfort him for long as Nia fully registers the situation and shoots up,curtly saying with a glare 'Thanks for the shoulder to cry on,Zuko'.Hope you're enjoying your new life perfect life without me' and runs off back to the Gaang's temporary residence and Zuko dosen't even bother getting up,struggling to find the words until Nia's too far to hear him,yelling out 'BUT IT'S NOT MY LIFE WITHOUT YOU!YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING I'VE EVER HAD TO PERFECT!'

Nia infilters the Royal Fire Academy For Girls and disrupts everything as he encourages the other female students to fight for their rights and proves to them the anti-Air Nomad things they were taught are lies and burned the academy down using his pink fire and his new friends help out with their own firebending.He cracks a couple eggs on the way too and 'The Beach' confirms Mai as a comphet lesbian,Tyzula as a mutually canon ship even if they don't get together and Nia is on Zuko's mind a lot and the fun summer-y setting he's in dosen't help.Nia's swimsuit is a pastel pink two piece and he has a crown of matching hisbiscus him and Aang made for eachother

Zuko and Nia finally make up in 'The Western Air Temple' as Zuko's decided to give up evil by becoming Aang's Firebending Master.Katara immediately rejects him as per canon,Aang welcomes him with open arms as always and Nia dosen't really know what to do with him.Zuko does his best to reassure him he's truly changed for the better in both words and actions and tries to recreate what they were like as kids until Nia puts his foot down and tells him 'We're not the same as we used to be........And i'm okay with that.I love the Zuko here like i did the old one' and Zuko's entire face goes beet red and Aang connects the dots and grins cheekily as he had a feeling they were a thing from the start.They act as the Team Mom and Team Dad of The Gaang or 'The Dragon Parents/Dadko and Momia' and Katara makes a snide comment on how she'd be expected to be with Zuko over Nia by the public

'The Boiling Rock' has Nia,Zuko and Sokka rescuing Yung and Hakoda and a conversation between Nia and Azula as they fight that's basically just Nia going 'You're not a perfect sexy calculated villaness,you're 14 with an abusive fascist dad and you deserve a therapist and some goddamn friends and fruit pies so you can calm down' and Azula responding 'FUCK YOU MEAN???NUH UH!!!!' and Yung and Nia have a heartwarming reunion and he eventually legally adopts Aang,Jet and Toph since they don't have living/good parents like the Water Tribe Siblings do.Nia's Ember Island Player counterpart is played by a nonblack actor who jokes about having no gender and reminders everyone he's still half Fire Nation not JUST Air Nomad because they're 'both equally important' and Nia'd never cringed harder in his life.Kataang went a bit differently since Aang asked Nia for romance advice since him and Zuko were unspokenly unofficially together so their only season 3 kiss is the finale one and the remaining run time is used on developing the other characters,including The Air Nomads in flashbacks.Nia is given a half dragon soul as a blessing by Avatar Wan to help Aang and it dosen't actually take much adjusment for him to get used to it

Mai and Ty Lee came to Nia on the Day Of Sozin's Comet to help him takedown Fire Nation Soldiers and the three girls fought viciously and had banter and peer support.They're nicknamed 'The Riot Gyals' and Ty Lee still joins the Kyoshi Warriors while Mai takes up a blacksmithing mentorship and Nia grows up to found his own children's education and protection system called 'Nia's Kidbender Program' that was built up by him with big help from Zuko but first,we get to Book 4 aka Book Air,which is something of a playable epilogue in cartoon episodes form of that makes sense and an improved version of the comics where we see The Gaang's lives and their world post-Ozai.This includes Kataang's dating dynamic,finding Ursa again,how they further helped the world with even more activism and direct action,Toph realizing she's a transmasc girl instead of just a tomboy,Nia being the Aang to Azula's Zuko by befriending her and thus her gaining character development that leads to a redemption arc and finally dating Ty Lee and last but not least,Zunia getting together

Like Kataang,it happens in the last episode of the season and the ultimate series finale but in the opening so it's almost entierly about Aang and how far he's come and Zuko and Nia being boygirlfriend and girlboyfriend it's titled 'Air,Fire,Dragon,Love' with the last word being about Zunia,The Flight Siblings and The Peace Brothers since their love for eachother is equally strong and important cosmically.The previous episode was a cliffhanger of Zuko asking Aang for help since he knows Nia as well as he does and them doing a grand romantic display with pink,dragon and summer themes that looked ridicioulous and Nia is pleasently stunned speechless and they think he hated it until he bursts outlaughing and drags Zuko off to start their date as he yells over his shoulder to Aang that he loves him and is proud of him and then calls Zuko 'such an old lord' for the cheesy display and he sputters back that he was trying to treat him like the future Fire Lady.It's Nia's turn to blush,entire face glowing like a pink version of The Avatar State and it's Zuko's rare turn to be the cocky one but as always it dosen't last for him

Their date consists of doing both romantic Fire Nation traditions and romantic Air Nomad traditions,including Zuko gifting Nia Air Nomad earrings he made with Aang's guidance.There's zero restrainment in their pda except not kissing until they get back to the Fire Palace and lean in for their first kiss at the same time which turns into several more chaste kisses and we get a final narration that's done by the entire Gaang in bits,flashing forward to their older years and we see Aang and Katara's wedding amongst many other things and this includes Zuko and Nia having a daughter named Zara

And 'The Airbender Legacies' refers to Aang and Nia for obvious reasons but also Aang choosing to keep their culture alive by not killing Ozai and Zara herself as the first Air Nomad born in a long ass time who'd live without persecution

@nogender-onlystars @moonage-gaydream @refrigeratedboombursts @cam24fan @biandbored @sarasanddollar @insomniac-jay @floof-ghostie @9ragonmew @mayameanderings @fandomunsexyman

[sealz888]

Gage for the ask me anything! If you don’t do DLC characters then Nick Valentine please and Butch from FO3❤️

Thank you for requests! Another Anon sent me an ask with 2/3 of the characters and with Old Long Fellow so I'll post that soon for them. In the meanwhile, please enjoy. CW for Butch: Child abuse. Triggering content below the cut.

Nick Valentine

Ever since he was a young boy he's had a knack for investigating.

First got into introduction to it was family game night, where they had one of those fake investigation game thingies. He got it pretty fast, much to his families dismay. They got some more, and he only got better.

Started to watch detective and crime shows and movies and he'd often pick up on the culprit quickly. Listened to true crime radio shows too.

When he was 16, his neighbour hired to him to investigate if her husband was cheating on him. He found out and got photo evidence. The husband was cheating and he got paid handsomely for finding out.

Frequently corresponds with DiMA,  exchanging letters and parcels. He tries to visit at least once a year. DiMA still tries to convince him to stay. 

One time while they were staying, DiMA found  one of those investigation games. A whole bunch of Synthes and DiMA tried to figure it out, Nick sat there watching and helping whenever he could. He ending up bringing it back to the Commonwealth with him.

Pre-War Nick was pretty close with Jennifer's nephew, becoming an uncle figure. There bond only got got stronger after Jenny got murdered. Nick and Little Shaun now share this bond.

His internal fans speed up and get really loud when he's flustered of caught of guard. If it's really quiet and you get up nice and close you could almost hear a mechanical heartbeat.

Porter Gage

I haven't played or watched too much on Nuka-world, so forgive me if I have anything off.

Gouged out his own eye. He was dared to prove his courage, loyalty and balls.

His brother is Red-eye. They were both adopted into the same raider family. They also have sister and another younger brother who were birthed into the ranks. The Sister and brother died in one of the raids, but Red Eye and Gage made it to Nuka World.

Doesn't like the taste of Nuka-Cola, drinking it so much as made him miserable. He's so tired of using it to marinade meat. He's so tired of the same fizzy texture. He's so tired of the taste, the colour, everything.

Tends to help out with agriculture and farming considering his roots.

Is debating betraying the SoSu considering their status with the Minutemen, dissatisfied at the recent information. He's also planning a full scale invasion of the Commonwealth.

He also wanted Nuka World too himself as well, so he has Red-Eye spy on SoSu.

Butch DeLoria

Content Warnings for Child Abuse the cut.

His dad ran off to Vegas. Growing up his mother would warn him about gambling, Chems and alcohol. Also bares a striking resemblance to his father, his mother resents him for it.

When he was a young child, he'd often ""run away"" from their room and ask to sleep for the night. He'd end up frequently having sleep overs with other kids and spend more time at theirs than his'.

Was really hoping to get a mechanic on the G.O.A.T and absolutely hated being a barber at first. However, he really like doing his hair and got really good it, so he excelled in his training much to his dismay.

Opened his own barber shop in Rivet City and people from all over, and I mean all over come to see him and to get a haircut. His skills are insane.

Listens to a lot of Elvis and can do a few of his dance moves.

Big comic book nerd despite bullying a lot of kids in the vault about comics. He's a grognak kinda guy I reckon.

Helps MacCready out too and knew him as a kid. He often visits little Duncan and brings him lollies, sweets, sodas and comics. He'll read Duncan the letters MacCready sends him in silly voices to get him to laugh.

Big ol' softie, wants a wife and to settle down in a family but his past experiences and absent father makes him second guess himself. He has a dog though.

He got counselling from James to deal with his trauma. Also apologised to the LW and Amata too.

Happy to leave the vault and never come back!

Continued below cut

He'd run to the guards and overseer and tell them about everything, most of the guards wanted to help him and would let him stay around them. They did everything in their power to get him help.

but when the overseer confronted his mother about she denied everything and said that he was lying.

He was not. Could you hear it.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 ao3

Eddie finds Wayne outside, round the back of the hotel. He’s sat on a little bench next to a trellis doing another damn crossword, the newspaper folded across his knees; and it’s almost funny, how he so easily seems to find peace and solitude during the impossible. But then Eddie remembers unplanned nights at the trailer from years ago, seeking refuge from raised voices and smashed bottles—and figures that Wayne’s always been good at carving out quiet moments amongst chaos.

Wayne looks up when Eddie sits down on the bench, too, appraises him thoughtfully.

“You’re looking better.”

“Well, damn, Wayne,” Eddie says, “was I ugly before or something?”

Wayne raises his eyes to the heavens, but he can’t hide the tiny smile tugging at his lips—and, God, Eddie thinks, he’s never taking this for granted again. Lately they’d gotten too used to passing like ships in the night—they had a vague plan to order takeout, watch T.V on one of Wayne’s rare days off, but then Chrissy…

“Steve doing good?” Wayne asks shrewdly, and Eddie nods, says that he’s heading to his house to pick up some of his stuff.

Wayne reaches into his back pocket, brings out his car keys and tosses them to Eddie. He jerks his thumb to the hotel parking lot.

“I’m parked near the front, just bring it back whenever you’re done.” He eyes Eddie, a little grave. “You just take care, all right? Don’t stop for no-one.”

Eddie nods again. Pushes back a tight knot of anxiety. “I won’t. Hey, uh… how long do we, you know,” he glances at the hotel building, “have here?”

Wayne follows his gaze. “Well, they’ve not asked me for my credit card yet,” he says, entirely straight-faced, and when Eddie just huffs a small laugh, he adds, “Government’s stepping in to re-house folks. Heard some of the trailers aren’t too damaged, so…”

Eddie puts two and two together. “People are moving back?”

“Some of ‘em,” Wayne confirms mildly. “The park still needs more work, reckon it’ll be months, at least, before it starts looking like—”

“I don’t think I can do it,” Eddie blurts out. “Go—go back, I mean.”

It’s painful to admit, that he wants to run from the one place that used to make him feel safe. But he can’t hide from it, how the horror is pervasive: how he thinks of Chrissy in the living room, and Steve’s missing tape in his bedroom, and him sinking to the ground in the trailer park, despairing, a lifeless Steve in his arms.

“All right,” Wayne says, like it’s simple.

Eddie bites his lip. “But. Wayne. It’s… it’s your home, too.”

Wayne sighs but not unkindly. He ruffles Eddie’s hair. “We’ll figure it out, Eddie,” and it sounds like he’s saying, You know full well that’s not really where ‘home’ is.

Eddie smiles. Blinks and looks away to wipe his nose with the back of his hand. When he stands up, he takes a peek at the crossword, tuts and says, “Come on, old man, you’re getting slow.”

“You’re a damn menace, that’s what you are.”

“Six across, four letters,” Eddie continues, sing-song, “All you need, to the Beatles.”

“I hadn’t got round to—”

Eddie twirls the car keys round his finger, does a stupid little spin as he leaves, just because he can. “Love!” he exclaims, hand on his heart, and Wayne chuckles.

-

He goes the extra mile in being cautious, takes backroads that he knows will be quiet, makes himself as small as possible in the driver’s seat. The town still feels ghostly, and the very occasional people he does drive by on the sidewalk don’t appear to really notice him, and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it.

When he pulls up into Steve’s driveway, he glances in the rear-view mirror and sees another car crawling past—like it’s surveying rather than stopping. Then he realises that it’s Nancy who’s driving.

He sounds his horn as quietly as he can, and she starts, waves at him with a significant delay. She gets out, meets him at the front door.

“It’s empty, Jonathan took them all on a grocery store run,” Nancy says. Her voice is too level, like she’s putting all her effort into keeping it like that. “The spare key’s here.” She lifts up the door mat and bends down to pick up the key.

There’s mud all over her boots. Eddie only needs one look to know that it’s from the trailer park.

He kind of wants to hug her, honestly, but he doesn’t know yet what she really needs.

He lifts up the bag he’d brought. “Thought I’d do some laundry,” he says lightly, just to break the silence.

Nancy regards the bag with something like relief, and she takes it from him. “I can start a load,” she says, and then she opens the door and stops, right there in the hallway.

Eddie doesn’t blame her. With the house empty, their footsteps seem overly loud. There’s nothing to distract him from remembering the last time he was here, watching Steve’s forced normality. The clinking of bottles, back to the kids. His voice echoing eerily off the ceiling. You guys trust me, right?

Eddie gives himself a shake, heads for the stairs. “I’m just gonna—Steve wanted some clothes picked up, so…”

He trails off in invitation, looking over his shoulder.

But Nancy stays right where she is. She looks up to the top of the stairs then rapidly pales, a hand reaching out to steady herself against the wall. There’s a faint thump as she drops the bag onto the floor.

“Woah, woah.” Eddie hurries back, grabs her by the elbow. “You okay? You wanna sit down?”

Nancy shakes her head, screws her eyes shut for a moment. “No, I’m—I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Eddie says, uncertain.

She grips Eddie’s arm, breathes. Lets go and raises her head. “Yeah, I’m… I just need.” She picks up the bag again, straightens. “Just need to not—not think for a bit.”

Eddie releases his hold on her slowly, steps back when she doesn’t sway again.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says softly.

She reaches for a door to the left, before the kitchen. “Laundry room’s in here,” she says. Then, matter-of-fact, adds, “See you once you’ve got his things?”

Eddie nods but stays put. “Shout if you need me?”

Nancy softens. “Sure.”

-

In the end, Eddie’s almost glad that he heads to Steve’s bedroom alone, because he ends up freezing in the doorway for almost a full minute.

There’s more ghost-like memories in here. One of Steve’s drawers has been pulled fully out, left on the floor, and it’s like Eddie can hear Erica and Lucas scrabbling, throwing things out in their search for the tape.

Then he thinks of Dustin, his voice cracking; hearing him in the midst of asking, incredulous, “—not even going to look at me?”

Dustin’s furious, watery eyes flash through his mind, as does I hate you, and Steve turning his back, hiding as one tear falls down his cheek—

Enough.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Once he finally crosses the threshold, it’s easier—he does his best not to stop. He focuses on finding clothes that are loose and soft, easier for Steve to put on over a cast. It’s endearing, to see wrinkled t-shirts in the closet, placed close to hand, clearly worn and familiar and comforting.

He has to reach for the drawer on the floor anyway, picks a couple of sweaters in case Steve gets cold. And maybe it’s silly, but his hand lingers on the wooden surface as he does so, touching the impression of where Steve’s hand had been; as if he can somehow reach into the past and keep him safe.

He skims the bookshelf with interest, prompted by Steve’s suggestion. The majority of it is made up of old children’s books—twee collections of Winnie The Pooh and Beatrix Potter which make him smile. Then there’s a volume of poetry that catches his eye, simply because it’s been left crooked on the shelf, like Steve had recently been reading it, before distractedly putting it back.

Eddie picks it up, puts it on top of his little bundle of clothes and takes it with him.

- Nancy’s sitting on a beanbag in the laundry room, watching the washing machine whir, eyes unfocused. The beanbag is a garish red, at odds with the rest of the furniture in the house, marking it as a ‘Steve purchase.’

The washing machine beeps when it’s done; Eddie puts his clothes in the dryer, remembering Steve’s words and slamming the door shut. Nancy jumps in her seat.

“Sorry,” Eddie says.

She exhales. “It’s fine.”

It’s then that Eddie notices she’s taken her boots off; there’s dried blood on her socks. He recalls Wayne saying she looked like she’d been at the trailer park for hours; and he wonders just how far she has walked.

But before he can even tentatively ask, Nancy speaks first.

“I’m—it wasn’t you, I just. I can’t go in his room.” Her voice is thick. “You know, Barb… Barb’s parents, they kept her room ex-exactly like it…” She laughs sadly. “I couldn’t stop thinking that she’d just walk through the door.”

Eddie got an inkling that the disappearance of Barbara Holland was Upside Down related when Nancy came out of her Vecna trance, trembling in Steve’s arms. Before they’d scaled the rope, he’d overheard her whisper, tearful, “He showed me Barb.” Caught when Steve made a soft noise like he’d been punched: “Oh, Nance.”

Now Eddie watches Nancy glance upwards, blinking rapidly, and knows that Barb can never come home.

“I just couldn’t…” Nancy sucks in a sharp breath. “Couldn’t go in there, not when—when he’s not here, this place feels like a fucking museum.”

“He’s coming home,” Eddie says. “He’s gonna be okay.”

Nancy nods slowly. She curls further into the beanbag, wincing as she moves her feet.

They don’t speak for a short while, the dryer churning in the background. Eddie finds a handheld brush in a cupboard, picks up Nancy’s boots.

“Scooch,” he says gently, and they share the beanbag.

Little by little, Eddie scrubs the mud off Nancy’s boots. It’s dried and caked on in places, obviously fresh in others.

His uncle’s voice in his head again: I think she was waiting for something to happen, too.

“Hey, Wheeler?” Eddie says, almost a whisper. “You don’t need to, uh… keep checking, you know?”

Nancy doesn’t look at him.

He thinks of her freezing at the trailer park, clutching a coffee Wayne brought her, stuck waiting, and it breaks his heart.

“Don’t go back there,” he says.

She sighs like she can’t promise that.

Eddie gathers himself. “Fine, here’s the deal.” He waits until she turns to him, expectant. “If—if you need to… don’t go back there alone, okay?”

She blinks those eyes that have seen far too much. “How?”

“I’ll go with you,” Eddie vows.

She doesn’t say anything. But she leans into him, their shoulders pressed together, and that’s all the answer he needs.

-

“Why’d you bring so much?” Steve says with amusement when Eddie shows him the bundle of clothes.

“So you’ve got options! I don’t know how you style yourself, Harrington.”

“Whatever brings out my eyes,” Steve says, deadpan.

“I thought you said your hair was your ‘best feature.’”

“Thanks for the air quotes, man, appreciate it.” Steve actually bats his eyelids. Idiot, Eddie thinks fondly. “Why’re you limiting me to only one best feature?”

“Wow. Think all that hair just hides your big head.”

Steve flips him off—correctly this time. “Pot, meet kettle,” he echoes, and laughs when Eddie throws a sweater in his face.

-

Steve catches him reading the poetry book over dinner. “You can, like, doodle in it or whatever, if you want.” He shrugs. “I’m not precious with it.”

Eddie reaches for a pen, but only to add a tongue-in-cheek note for Steve to find on the title page, signs and dates it: When it was discovered by Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington had hidden depths.

It’s an anthology, so Eddie flips through it out of order, settling on random pages on a whim. Then several markings in pencil catch his eye.

He pauses. He vaguely recognises this poem from English. Steve has underlined the very end.

I was much too far out all my life  And not waving but drowning.

Eddie stays on that page for a long time—thinks of Chrissy, how he’d only ever remembered her as smiling before she sat in front of him in the woods, picking the skin around her fingers.

Pictures Steve, his inexplicably tender smile in the RV. This bit really isn’t so bad, Eddie.

Steve clicks his fingers, burnt lasagne mid-way to his mouth. “Hey, where’d you go?”

Eddie starts, turns the page. “Oh, nowhere.”

He shuts the book.

[gamebunny-advance]

Overlays + Logo Experiments 2023 (Kuneho sa Kahon)

This is some old work that I did last year.

I'm not gonna call this stuff "scrapped," because I may still use them someday, it's just that I don't know if or when I'm gonna start streaming again.

I forgot how long ago I actually made these, but I do know that it was during a time when I actually sucked it up and sat down with Inkscape for a while. I've probably forgotten everything I learned since then, but I remember it not being as difficult as I thought it was going to be, so picking it back up again probably won't take too long.

Anyway, the actual notes...

I made 2 versions of the "Game" overlay, 16:9 and 4:3 to accommodate more gaming eras (the games shown are just placeholders). I'd like to have a dual screen overlay too, but it might have to be less "showy" to give the game enough room to actually be seen.~

It's mostly inspired by things like the Windows XP music player, just pinkified to match Kun3h0's aesthetic.

The message box is of course lightly tamagotchi inspired and is supposed to match with Kun3h0's GAB. (Well actually, I designed these overlays first, so it's the GAB that takes after the overlay, even using the same background image for her tummy screen).

There isn't a proper overlay for art streams yet. I'm always accidentally grabbing the edges of my workspace and resizing it, so I don't think a boxed overlay would work that well for it. Maybe just a border and a place to put the alerts would be fine, but I don't really have any ideas for it~

They aren't quite "finished" yet. There are supposed to be icons in the trio of hot pink buttons, but my placeholder ideas for them didn't look great.

(Icons originally from Icons8)

The idea was to bring in some more of that tamagotchi influence by having "care icons" that would allude to some of the features of Kun3h0's game, but I just don't think the icons I chose really work. Plus, I think they're just busy. I should probably just throw some hearts in there and call it a day~

Next are the logos. I actually really like the first one, but it's a little hard to work with.

All the empty space above the title next to the ears creates, well, an empty space when the logo is at the top edge of anything. It's just very ugly to me, but there's not much I could think to do about it.

So, I made the next iteration. It's a lot more rectangular, so it's easier to place in scenes, but I think the layering of the letters is a little off. I love the idea for it, but it's just short of being great. With a few more tweaks, I think it could really work.

But you know, I feel like the problem that almost all my logos have is that they're all bulky. There are just a lot of words in there since I include the English translation, but I figure that maybe I might be able to just condense everything into a single icon: like maybe the GAB Micro is enough of a symbol on its own to work? Maybe throw a couple of K's onto the screen, but otherwise I don't think I actually need much more than that. So, maybe I'll work on something like that soon.

The last thing is just some vector art tests I did. I tried remaking this faux vector art from a while ago. It was just a way to try and get used to the program. I also tried to remake my pictogram 1010s, to varying success.

[whoblewboobear]

Hiiii!!! 📓

Hellooo hiii~ and OUGHHH Thank u 🥰 

So I pretty much rapid fire throw all my lil fic blurbs that I’ll probably never write on here but one of them that hasn’t entirely gotten its own spotlight is Porter’s backstory/character study. It’s mainly in bits and pieces but I’ve thought about it ALOT. I’ve rattled man around my brain for so long to figure out WHY he’s like that. Sooo I’m gonna scream about what I think his deal is for a lil bit~ A lot a bit actually lmao so it’s going under a read more 🤧✌️

~ The minute Porter was born his parents chose war over him. Handed him off to his grandparents the moment they’d both be able to go straight back into battle to defend the sunstone clan. He was left with his Paternal grandparents where they pretty much raised him like a soldier. He was homeschooled and along side his regular lessons like Common and Math, a lot of history lessons came from his grandfather who was a big war guy. He loaded Porter up on so many texts about wars that have passed, tactics each army used, etc. This is where Porter’s love for history comes in. 

He also learned cooking from his grandma and a little bit of sewing because she believed martial classes should always have their own form of mending in their back pocket. “There wont always be a caster around to do the small stuff.” Porter disagrees heavily in present day. He can sew and it’s a skill he kept up with but he almost exclusively dates casters that don’t mind using a quick mending on some of his things. 

(Jace sees this, realizes this, and then punches Porter so hard in the arm when he finds him sewing a pair of his pants bc “you ask me to mend your clothes all the time! You can sew?!” Jace doesn’t mind but he does give Porter shit about it from now on. But enough about Jace. For once this ain’t about him 😗✌️) 

Porter was definitely way closer to his grandma. She taught him everything she knew about divinity. Very very devout woman. She 100% believed in Ankarna as a goddess of Justice because she thought what the clan was doing WAS justice. With Porter’s grandfather, he makes it very clear during sparring and fighting practice that their goddess is weak and needs to be changed for the better and that Porter could be the one to do it. He has that drilled into him from such an early age too. Like imagine little 12 year old Porter being told “you’ll be the next champion, you will take back what we deserve.” It’s a lot of pressure. The war ended some years ago, but his parents died for this cause. He owes it to them to at least try. 

His clan is mostly in hiding. Somewhere high up in the mountains of chaos. I like to imagine that it’s the Cliffbreakers and a few other giantkin that found a home there. It’s prominent enough but secluded enough that adventurers pass through every now and then to trade or get in a long rest for the night. Porter loves sneaking out and watching them. He’s never seen so many different kinds of interesting and well traveled people before. By the time he’s 16 he’s a little tired of his training. There hasn’t been a war in quite sometime. Adventuring is where the battle is. 

One night the rogue of a visiting party has spied him watching the last few nights and offers for Porter to join. So he does and he likes the conversation and their stories. Their bard sing folk songs that are so new and different from the ones his grandmother used to sing him to sleep with. This is new and exciting and when the party offers for him to join he jumps at the chance. He leaves a letter, steals his dad’s old war hammer, and heads off with them just as dawn is breaking. 

He stays with that party into his late teens. He’s maybe 19 by the time the party raises concerns with their cleric’s closeness to Porter. Truly a fucking scumbag that was pursuing him when they definitely shouldn’t have been. Porter doesn’t see the issue, he’s confused why everyone is fighting about it or why the first person he’s ever been interested in, maybe even loved is being ousted from the group. They sit him down and explain the nuance but he’s a little too young and a little too angry to understand. So he leaves. 

Porter cycles through about 6 other adventuring parties, being messy the entire time too bc he absolutely does date at least one person from every new party he joins. He doesn’t mean to it just sorta happens 🤭 he’s partial to mages. He’s so fascinated by the concept of magic. Sure he’s still in touch with his faith and the little magic he can do because of it is nice but it’s not raw unadulterated power. 

By the time he’s maybe 36 he’s with a been with a sorcerer woman for about 3 years, he’s happy. He loves her, they had a small wedding when they stopped in a quaint and homey woodland town. She helps a lot with his temper when the rage is a little too much. One day she comes to him and says it might be time for them to stop adventuring. He’s confused until she places her hand on her stomach and says they’re having a baby. He’s scared but overjoyed. He loves kids. He used to babysit here and there with his grandma back home. So they do it. They break off from the party and settle in a town not too farm from Elmville.

Porter takes small quests here and there to keep them afloat. It’s not much and it’s not particularly interesting but he’s happy at home. Until he isn’t. After his wife has their baby girl, they’re constantly fighting. Fighting to the point of hurting each other. It isn’t pretty and they try to keep it from their little girl but god the older she gets the more she notices and that’s when Porter and his wife sit down and discuss separating. She tells him he can get settled before they discuss co-parenting and he agrees. He moves to Elmville, finds that the big adventuring high school in town is looking for a barbarian teacher. He feels qualified enough. Maybe it’s the arrogance and the ego talking but he feels like he can do it. So he applies and honestly, it’s such a weird interview. It’s so bizarre. Arthur is so strange but he hires Porter on the spot. With his teaching money he can finally afford an apartment. About a month or so of him getting settled his ex wife calls and says a letter from his grandmother came to the house. Porter made trips back to the mountains every few years but it became a lot less after his grandfather died. It was all a little too difficult for him to be back there. 

When he gets the letter, it’s from the doctor that lives in his childhood community saying that Porter’s grandmother is sick. Not on deaths door sick but sick enough that she needs someone to look after her. It’s not even a question in his mind to move her in with him. He takes care of her and he works, and eventually he starts co-parenting. His life is alright.

Sometime around late freshman year or the summer after his grandmother takes a turn for the worst and passes. It’s a bit much and it’s not fair and his heart hurts so fucking much. And somewhere in his grief he hatches a plan. To become a god and fulfill his role as champion long enough to kill god and take her place. He’ll burn the world to the ground if he has to. To make his family and his ancestors proud.

[queenwendy]

Sometimes I get morbidly curious and scroll through the terf tag (bad idea) and half the time it makes me sad but the other half it makes me laugh my ass off because like… they seem to think anybody can walk into a doctor’s office, declare “I am trans!” And just get sex reassignment surgery??? Like, what???? That isn’t how that works at all

I’m a trans woman in the western US, and I am lucky enough to have A) supportive family and B) really fucking good healthcare through my family. To be clear, if you do not have A and especially if you do not have B good fucking luck getting blockers, much less hormones or dear god surgery! It’s nigh impossible!

In early 2018 when I was almost 15, I came out to my parents. Immediately I was put in therapy (that had more to do with the depression and suicidal ideation I experienced while in the closet than being trans). While social transition (different name, different clothes) happened pretty quickly, it wasn’t until my mental health stuff was dealt with that my therapist and doctor, both on the trans youth specialist team, started talking HRT.

The first step was puberty blockers. To get that approved I not only needed parent permission and a ton of forms, I was all but required to bank sperm (as a 15 year old!) and I had to socially transition and meet a bunch of WPATH requirements (I actually like WPATH a lot, to be clear) and wait through a months long waiting list just to get an appointment with a psychiatrist, who then asked me a bunch of questions (he was nice, I do not remember the questions, this was years ago) to ensure I didn’t have some other problem. After passing that, I got a prescription for nogonadotropin as a puberty blocker.

From the time I first told doctors I was trans to the time I had my first blockers shot, a little over 6 months had passed. To be clear, in the US, that’s fast. In the UK? That’s impossibly fast.

It then took another 6 months of blood test, questioners, meetings with my doctor and my parents and my therapists before I was finally cleared for estradoil tablets. 1 mg/day. I got them nearly on the year to the day from when I came out. I was nearly 16

Again, that is crazy fast.

Within a year and a half my estradoil doseage had increased to 6mg/day and I was on 100mg/day of progesterone as well. Eventually that became 200mg/day. Years later I switched from estradoil tablets to estradoil shots.

The entire time I have seen the same therapist, not just for trans healthcare but also mental health stuff. I got SSRIs for anxiety, got an ADHD diagnosis, etc.

In fall of 2022 (I was 19), I reached out to my doctor to say I wanted bottom surgery. We had talked about doing it before, but I had always said “I don’t know if I’m ready.” I was unsure. And even though I could have gotten at least an orchiectomy after I turned 16 if I really wanted to (with parental permission and I am sure so much medical red tape I would have been an adult by the time it happened), I never wanted it. My doctors were surprised I wanted it, so were my folks.

I had to meet with my therapist several times, coordinate with a social worker, and get 2 or 3 letters of recommendation from doctors. Then I needed to unravel who and what my insurance cost and find surgeons I wanted to consult with. That took MONTHS. It wasn’t until fall of 2023, a full year later, that I was FINALLY was able to schedule with two of the three surgeons I wanted (we’ll get to that third one in a bit).

It is now the last days of august 2024. I had my first consultation, which was out of state, earlier this month. It went well. If I had scheduled a surgery date right then and there, there would have been a year long wait time. Which again, is a very very small wait time. I didn’t though, because I wanted to consult with other surgeons and I knew that would be smack in the middle of graduate school.

My second consultation (which, ugh, I need to do some phone calls for to figure out transportation!) is in a few months. The third one? I’m still on a waiting list to GET A CONSULTATION.

To be clear, neither my parents nor my doctors ever pressured me into anything. My folks were completely blindsided when I came out and had basically no idea how to proceed besides using a different name. My doctors always said “well, here’s your options and all the risks. You want that? Okay, think on it for a month and we’ll discuss next steps at our next appointment.” All of this was my choice. Mine. And they never tried to stop me either, just make sure I was being safe and following procedure.

Both my younger sister and my cousin on my mom’s side are trans as well. Considering we have several blood relatives on that side of the family who are also LGBTQ+ going back at least to the 1940s, assume there’s a genetic predisposition for it. Both my sister and my cousin have had a lot harder of a time getting HRT, even though my sister has the same insurance, same provider, same psychologist as me (idk what my cousin’s insurance situation is).

Odds are, I will have my graduate degree (environmental engineering) before I undergo surgery. Maybe even before I have a date for undergoing surgery. If all goes well, I graduate in may 2026. I’ve agreed with my girlfriend that once we graduate in 2026 if we’re still together I’ll feel comfortable getting engaged, so it’s very possible that I will be fucking married before I get SRS. Y’know, assuming it isn’t outlawed or anything.

When I was 14, I figured out I was a girl. Without talking to anybody, I knew I wanted a female body and that the puberty I was going through wasn’t right. Looking back, there were times I almost knew when I was 11, when I was 7, when I was only 3. At that age, I considered “surgery is something I might do when I’m older. I dunno. Right now I have crippling depression and cheat dysphoria, I really just want to be called the right name and pronouns and have HRT.”

I am now 21. I haven’t undergone any surgeries in that time, at all (except wisdom teeth removal ig. Does that count?). I have had one (1) SRS consultation, and the soonest I could get surgery is a year from now, but odds are it will be in two years. Maybe three even.

There is no epidemic of children being told they are trans and getting surgeries. That doesn’t fucking happen. If you’re really worried about kids getting unnecessary surgery look into the weird world of rich white girls getting facelifts and breast enlargement surgeries and stuff. At no doctor’s office in this country can you walk in with one set of genitals and walk out with another at the drop of a hat. There is a YEARS long medical process that happens before a consultation is even scheduled. And before that there is a trans person’s entire earlier life of doubt and questioning and fear and pain.

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch.16 (a ronance fic)

all previous chapters of this fic can be found here!

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Before they had left the hotel Nancy had called in an order at a restaurant on the way. “When I said we wanted a large sized pasta I didn’t think it would be family sized,” she said. There were two huge plastic containers almost spilling over with fettuccine and cheese ravioli.

“This is perfect,” Robin sighed happily. She grabbed the paper to-go bag and pulled out another container. “Breadsticks,” she smelled the box and grinned. “This is going to be the best dinner ever.”

”Good thing they packed us paper plates,” Nancy handed Robin one along with a plastic fork.

They both put some of each pasta on their plate and Robin poured them each a glass of wine. She passed a plastic cup to Robin who nodded in thanks. The sky was turning pink and orange as the sun began to go down. Today had been perfect and now she was getting to watch a sunset and meteor shower with Nancy. Even though she knew tomorrow was going to be difficult she was so thankful for the time they had now.

“Who was your first crush?” Nancy asked, passing Robin a fork.

“Oh, the big questions, huh?” Robin tilted her head to the side. It was difficult to say because she had a crush on two girls very specifically starting freshman year. “Tammy Thompson and Chrissy Cunningham.”

Nancy clapped her hands together excitedly, “Tammy and Chrissy! Oh I love that so much! Did you ever confess to them?”

“No way! Imagine the scandal that would have caused. Although one time the band was playing at a basketball game and there was a routine the cheerleaders did with the band like a chant? Do you remember?”

“Yes! The get fired up, I remember. Keep talking,” she said excitedly.

“Well there was one time Chrissy was facing me for the entire routine and when they finished and walked back to the sideline she turned around to smile at me one last time. Oh man, I went home and wrote her a letter on how she was the love of my life.”

“Didn’t slip it in her locker? Not even anonymously?” Nancy gave a fake pout.

Robin shook her head, “I almost did! I had it in my hand and right when I was about to step up to her locker she and Jason were suddenly there. She was giggling and he was sticking his yucky lips on her. I burned the letter that night.”

Nancy tilted her head giving Robin a thoughtful look, “I kissed Barb once,” her voice was soft now. It was more of a bittersweet confession.

Robin laid her hand on top of Nancy's, giving her a half frown. She didn’t want to ask questions because she knew this had to be hard for her. Barb had died so young and Steve had told Robin about that night before. She wasn’t sure if that wasn’t something anyone could get over especially her best friend and probable crush?

“Yes. I had realized that I didn’t just like guys. I had a major crush on Barb and as far as I knew… Well, she had never said she didn’t like girls, you know? One day we were arguing about some stupid math quiz and I just grabbed her and kissed her.” There was a sad look on Nancy’s face as she continued, “We just sort of stared at each other in shock. She never mentioned it after that so I figured I made the wrong choice. I tried to pretend it never happened just like she did and moved on. That’s when I dated Steve.”

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees around them. Nancy took a long drink from her plastic cup then sighed. “A few months after she died I asked her mother if I could look for a jacket I lost. When I was in her room I found her diary hidden in her closet in an old shoe box.” Her voice cracked as she closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek. “She had written about the kiss and how it felt magical. She had said it was everything she dreamed of but she couldn’t say it out loud. When I started dating Steve the diary entries sort of stopped.”

Robin rubbed Nancy’s arm softly, “I am so sorry for what happened to her, Nancy. I wished I could have known her better.”

Nancy nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “You would have loved her. The two of you would have bickered like no tomorrow and I would have loved to watch it.”

They finished eating in a comfortable yet bittersweet silence, watching the colors of the sky swirl together as it turned purple then a dark blue into black. After they packed away the leftovers, Robin poured them each another glass of wine. “Do you have anything planned for work?” She asked Nancy who had just fluffed her pillow to lie down.

“I’m still trying to set something up with Max. She has a lot of changing deadlines with her work. But, we are looking for about a month out because she’s going to have two weeks off work. That is if her current project finishes on time.

“What’s she working on?” Robin laid back beside Nancy, pulling the extra blanket over them.

“I’m not sure. She said she can’t talk about it just yet but maybe by the interview she can. If I hold out on publishing her article until an official announcement that could also help. I’ll probably have to sign a couple of NDAs or something but it’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

”So sophisticated Nancy Wheeler.”

Nancy gave a sheepish grin then sighed. “I know you said before you weren’t sure what you would have done if you hadn’t started touring but what do you think you’d do now? Like if the band decided to call it quits?”

Robin shook her head, “That’s hard to even imagine. Everyone is so close and we all get along. I know we are very lucky for that so it’s a hard scenario to picture. But, I guess if the music and shows were to go away today perhaps I would still try something in film. I don’t know if it would ever go anywhere but I could try at least. I also do think I’d love to own a studio though. Like where kids could come to learn and play whatever instrument they want. I believe Chicago is a perfect place for that too. And I’m not talking about some fancy place but somewhere everyone is welcome. I do think my heart is with music now, funnily enough.” And it was funny to Robin. Sure she was in band and had cared about that but it had never been her calling. Marching band wasn’t even something she imagined herself continuing past high school and now music was her whole life. All by chance.

“That sounds really nice. I think that if I gave up the magazine I’d still find some sort of woman’s work. I don’t think I could ever try working for a bunch of men again. It’s impossible.” Her hand shot up in the air, “You missed it! Pay attention!”

Robin whipped her head back up toward the sky and looked around. She needed to actually pay attention. Which was very hard to do with the prettiest girl she knew beside her. “The stars are so different out here,” she offered. The sky was so clear Robin felt like she could actually see the balls of gas twinkling.

“It’s breathtaking,” Nancy said quietly beside her.

Robin nodded in agreement, looking around, trying to spot constellations as easily as Nancy could. “When is the next full moon?” Robin knew that Nancy would know the answer because of her journal.

“The thirtieth of this month. Then the thirtieth again of October. Just in time for Halloween.”

Robin sat up quickly. “Nancy! Halloween is next month!”

Nancy raised an eyebrow at her, “Yes it does typically fall on October thirty-first.”

“No! I mean yes, but no. This will be my first Halloween home in six years! We have to have a party or do something fun!” She looked at Nancy who was still looking at her with a raised brow but now had a smirk on her face. “It’s my absolute favorite holiday!”

”Perfect! Mine is Christmas but I do love Halloween. We definitely will do something. I’ll make sure not to book anything that day!” Her smile grew into something more mischievous, “We should coordinate costumes.”

”That would be perfect! Maybe we can talk Steve and Eddie into having a party. Their house is bigger than mine.”

”I’ve not been to their house but I’m assuming it’s bigger than mine as well. Plus my landlord is weird about having a lot of cars parked in the driveway.”

”Isn’t that what a driveway is for?” Robin laid back down, shifting herself so she could prop her head on Nancy’s stomach.

Nancy started to run her fingers gently through Robin’s hair. “That is the function of it, yes but he’s my neighbor so he would probably come raising hell.”

”Fair enough. Not our places then. It won’t be hard to talk Eddie into it. For all we know he may already be planning a party.”

”Actually, he probably is. Does he make Steve dress up with him?” Nancy questioned, still running her fingers through Robin’s hair absentmindedly.

”Oh, for sure. They’ve done Rocky and Dr Frank-N-Furter, oh, last year Steve was Beetlejuice and Eddie was Lydia. That was the best one they’ve done yet.”

”I wish I could have seen that! I bet Eddie looked so fucking good. Ooooh, what are we gonna do?”

”Hm,” Robin hummed thoughtfully. “How do you feel about Princess Leia? I can be Han Solo.”

”That sounds perfect! You’re gonna look so good as Han.”

Robin felt herself blush, “Maybe we can participate in a ‘hottest couple costume contest’. I’m sure we’d win.”

”So we’re a couple?” Even though Nancy had sass in her tone Robin didn’t miss the way her voice shot up on the word couple. She had been trying to figure this out just as much as Robin herself.

Were they? It seemed like not that much time had gone by since the interview they had together but then again so much had happened since then. Everything had changed as well. Was it too soon to put a label on things? Could giving whatever they were a title make the fact they’d be juggling long distance even harder? Both of them were young it seemed silly to not just do what they wanted.

“I think we are whatever you want us to be Nancy Wheeler.”

Nancy’s fingers stopped, leaving the palms of her hands pressed against the top of Robin’s hands. “Can I be vulnerable?”

Robin nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“I am so scared, Robin. I haven’t been this happy in a very long time nor have I felt this way before. The thought of becoming something more than friends is horrifying. Or course I have feelings for you but I’m also genuinely so scared. You’ll tour more. I’ll have jobs I have to fly out for and I just don’t know how we will manage to make this work. I want more than anything for it to be possible but I’m scared of how bad losing you will hurt.”

Robin turned, inching herself up so she was next to Nancy, nose to nose nearly. “I’m scared too, Nance. Terrified, if I’m being honest. I want to be with you. It’s all I think about. Being together, spending time with one another… My thoughts are about you so often everyday I know things are different. I also know things are hard because of our jobs. So, maybe we don’t use a label? Maybe we just see where it goes? Who knows what could happen. If you don’t want to be my girlfriend that’s okay.”

Nancy pressed her lips against Robin’s, causing her to hold her breath. She was always saying too much even when being honest mattered most. “Okay.” She said after pulling away.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s just see what happens.”

Stars streaked through the sky, leaving streams of green and blue and Robin could do was squeeze Nancy’s hand a little harder. Letting things take their course was a good thing but for some reason Robin had a lump in her throat. Could the two of them actually make it work?

[mooseyspooky]

A historical or alternative historical fic idea with Moz as a much older wealthier man, a recluse more or less

He lives on a big estate, far away from everything. He has one or two servants, none of whom know him very well. He has a sustainable little field of crops maintained by the help.

A single, solitary cow that grazes the field whose milk gets made into all sorts of useful things. A few goats, a horse. And it's a quiet, very mundane life Moz lives.

Where he spends most of his days writing letters to Wilde and having one of his helpers mail them in the nearest town, and of course none of the letters get replies but Moz continues to write him pages and pages about life and everything else

Then one day Moz looks out his first floor window. And there at the gate along the dirt road leaning up against the stone wall is this filthy, underfed urchin. His hair is long and tangled. His hands are dirty, but the strange thing is - he's dressed quite well. The clothes hang off him, but they are quite stylish for the time.

He's smoking a cigarette and staring down the road. And when he looks up and catches Moz' eye, the smile he shoots him makes the sun look less radiant. Moz immediately closes the curtain, withdraws deeper into the room.

But minutes later the door flies open and there's this filthy child staring at him while the maid fusses at him and tells him to take off his muddy shoes at least - if he's going to be barging in uninvited and making a mess.

He doesn't smell great, either. Moz immediately puts his handkerchief to his nose to abate the smell.

And this boy, who's so thin he could be snap in two by the slightest wind, says he's looking for work. Work and a place to sleep. Moz says no, nothing like that here. There's nothing for you here go away.

But the boy is insistent. Johnny, he says. Johnny's my name. And don't you need someone to clean the barn? Moz says as long as you'll leave me alone, then yes.

John Maher. 16 years old, and sleeping in his barn. Did he ever even have parents?

The maid being like christ even if you're sleeping in the barn you're too disgusting and you reek. Making Johnny get the water out the well to fill the tub and pull it in front of the fire. Moz watches quietly from the doorway as she scrubs the boy down like a muddy unwanted dog.

And it's startling because under the filth is a boy with bright brown eyes and messy black hair, most of which the maid cuts off to get the mats out. But he's stunning. Otherworldly almost. His underfed frame suits him.

The hollows of his cheeks, the severe dip of his ribs. The maid doesn't have many clothes around that would fit him, she'll have to sew something for him the next day. So for now he's put in one of Moz' long linen shirts and a thick pair of socks and a pair of loose trousers with a belt wrapped around his tiny waist a few times.

He lounges on Moz' furniture all night, looks through a dozen of his books, smokes a dozen cigarettes. All while Moz watches silently, without a word. Standing in the doorway in total fascination.

And Johnny of course doesn't really know how to read, so he keeps sounding out all the words and trying to figure it out and Moz will mumble it and Johnny will parrot him. And so this goes on day after day. Moz will be sat in his library, comfortably flipping through something and Johnny will pop up behind him like a phantom, smelling of animal dung and hay and cigarettes and sweat and be like what's this mean?

And Moz will be like your living quarters is in the barn not my library. I don't even pay you. And Johnny just sits down, staining the furniture and making the maid furious.

So Johnny has House Clothes he has to change into whenever he leaves the barn or the maid will actually murder him. Just absolutely skin him alive. But that's a problem cause Johnny just comes in wearing a loose top that shows off his shoulders and trousers that slip down and show off his hips.

And Moz has just entered his 40th year, he can't be looking at John in that way, he's still too young. And more than that, a young man. Not a young woman. But Moz will clutch Johnny's filthy unwashed clothes to his face late into the night and shiver. Has to stop himself from staining them with something humiliating.

Because Johnny is far more clever than you'd expect. He's bright, he's studious, he loves to catch Moz singing in the garden when he's doing the weeding so the other hired help won't have to. He's incredibly kind, he's almost unnaturally gifted with the animals. Moz isn't sure where this young man came from or where he's going. But he wants him so badly.

God but Johnny is such a mischief maker, he loves to tease Moz in the worst ways possible and it drives Moz mad. His favorite tea cup goes missing, has to go fetch it from the horse stable. He goes out to the garden and Johnny's left his things in front of the door, nearly causing him to fall. He gets his dirty hands all over the place.

And Moz doesn't even mean for it, not really. But Johnny takes the last cup of fresh yoghurt from the ice box right in front of him, starts to eat it with a smile saying he's perfectly within his rights to do it. Moz isn't violent of course, he abhors it really but as Johnny's walking away Moz shoves him against the worktop. The yoghurt near falls to the floor, barely makes it on the counter, but a good size drop of it is on the floor and the silence between them could span an ocean

Johnny's breathing slow and steady, perfectly calm despite being shoved against a counter by a man much older than him and double him in size. And Moz silently points to the ground, says firmly, with no room for argument, that Johnny must clean that up. That the maid isn't going to keep wiping up after him and washing the furniture everytime he comes in from the barn.

Johnny squares his shoulders up, juts his chin out, gives him a dismissive sniff and says nah, no. It's not my fault issit. You pushed me. You clean it up. And Moz rarely feels truly outraged about much, there's little that really irks him, but he takes a seat at the dinner table, dragging Johnny by the hair, and hoists him over his lap like his father did to him a hundred times. But those moments were far more frightening.

Johnny's backside had been all he'd been thinking about these past several weeks and to have it now, presented to him and with untethered access. It makes his heart feel too tight. His throat feels closed up. But he can't show that weakness.

He slams his hand down and readies for another but Johnny isn't struggling. He's panting and flushed and a slight shift gives away how aroused he is, and Moz is unable to move a single muscle. This isn't what he intended. None of this is what he intended.

And Johnny slinks to the floor, crawls unsteadily to the mess he made on the floor and licks it clean, looks to him for approval, like such a thing was what Moz expected - and Moz will either embarrass himself now or suffer the indignity in private so he just halfway nods in approval, says something indistinct then flees to the bedroom to hide his shame. Because he'd never felt such a burning need to have the touch of another man. Of a boy, really, barely old enough to know how to read, a boy who he knows nothing about. Who showed up, and slowly crept into every crevice of his life.

It's sheer madness, perhaps the devil himself in disguise, preying upon his lost faith.

[discet]

Have you ever played a game called Sea of Stars?

I have! I have some complicated feelings on it

So First off, this game is absolutely gorgeous. The sprite art style that they used throughout the world is a love letter to the 16-bit era while taking advantage of modern tech to make it even better. It's that thing that some independent games manage to do, where it looks like the old games felt even though if you set them aside by side, it is much better.

Mechanically I also had a BLAST with this game. It's core battle system is fun and has a deceptive amount of depth to it. It also utilizes the Paper Mario style of 'every attack and ability is also a mini game' that I have always loved. Traditional JRPG's tend to make me zone out during combat but Sea of Stars had been turned into almost every encounter. The progression always made me feel like I was getting more powerful without ever making the encounters ahead feel trivial.

In addition to all that, this game is clearly a love letter to Chrono Trigger, in it's perspective, world design, humor and more. The world is beautifully rendered and feels like a lived in space. It is by and large a light hearted and hopeful throw back to the games of old.

All that said. The Actual Story-Telling frustrates me to no end. A lot of things work, but a lot of things really, really don't for me. While I can rant about this forever, I will focus on my frustration with the main trio. Spoilers Ahead

So this game is ostensibly about Zale, Valare, and Garl. Zale and Valere are both chosen ones imbued with the magic of the Sun and Moon and destined for greatness. Garl is their childhood friend who they are separated from traumatically after one of their misadventures ends with Garl losing an eye and his two friends being dragged away for training in isolation for their futures as chosen ones.

They don't see each other for years. Now, trope-savvy girl like me was expecting for Garl to reappear as a rival to the heroes, bitter after losing an eye and being told he couldn't cling to his friends.

BUT NO. Like, within hours of the pair being released from their training to Do The Plot, Garl shows up, scarred eye and all and insists on joining them to support them in their adventure. And its just cute and wholesome and he's an endless well of positivity and lightheartedness in the story. I know some people found him annoying, but I loved Garl. He is just so genuinely enthusiastic about the world and its mysteries that it was contagious.

Unfortunately, Zale and Valere, by comparison, are pretty flat characters. They are both fairly stoic, serious minded adventurers who have basically the same dynamic with Garl. In most conversations they will respond exactly the same. Mechanically their kits cover very different bases in the combat system, but as characters, they have the same personality.

That said, my love of Garl, and the gameplay carried me past all that.

Then when Garl sacrifices himself it really actually got to me. Like, genuinely choked up. The music, the visuals, the writing really make his sacrifice feel both tragic and necessary for the story to finish.

With the desire to not let his sacrifice in vain carrying me through the last few plot beats.

Now the initial ending, is very clearly a set up for the secret ending. The big bad you've been opposing all game basically sicks his top Lieutenant on you and that's basically the final boss.

So of course you do all the end game stuff and unlock the secret ending where... Garl... doesn't die. The heroes use time stop shenanigans to basically swap Garl at the moment of his sacrifice with a shape changer you meet after his sacrifices. Which meant all that heart wrenching drama that had really genuinely gotten a reaction out of me... was all pretend. Was all acting from your shapechinging friend who just let themself be buried in a grave for a few months to keep the timeline in check. Garl was fine! He was just chilling and you get to finish the game properly now!

And that. Fucking sucked. I finished off the true final boss cause I mean I had worked hard enough for it but all of my investment had kind of drained away at that point.

The fact that several plot beats were actually in reference to the studios first release (the messenger) a game of a totally different genre and vibe to Sea of Stars, basically made the story weaker overall.

It's like. They were close. They were so close and it just lost me at the 5 yard line.

[parkerpeter24]

hello angel, what do you think of numbers 16 and 18 from prompt list 3 for our boy arvin russel? please and happy new year!

angel 🥺

pairing: arvin russell x reader

winter blurbs 2.0 ❄️ | 2.0 masterlist ❄️

it had been a week of you living at the russell house after your parents decided to split up. lenora, your best friend had been kind enough to provide you with a roof over your head. emma was a very supportive lady and you needed that sort of environment to overcome the fact that your parents were going to legally part ways. sometimes she would hold you when you cried because the pain of seperation was nothing new to her. it reminded the old lady of the time her son went to war and she longed for any information of his whereabouts.

sometimes you cried at nights alone in bed while everyone was asleep. you stayed in under your blankets and pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle your own sobs.

on monday you finally went to school with lenora. after a whole week of missing school, your friends were happy to see you but gene dinwoodie and his gang were constantly teasing you about your parents’ situation.

you couldn’t face the humiliation as you rushed out of the school halfway. you walked the whole way back, sobbing and wiping the trail of tears that covered your face every once in a while.

you assumed no one would be home because emma mentioned that earskell would be driving her to the grocery store across town to get some stuff for her special meal on lenora’s upcoming birthday.

but you were proven wrong when you saw arvin standing on the porch next to his uncle’s rocking chair, smoking a cigarette.

he stood up straighter, putting out his cigarette as soon as he saw you.

you never really saw arvin around the house, just carrying groceries for emma and helping repair something around the house but you were almost sure you had spent more time in the house in a week that you stayed there than he did in eight years.

“what’s wrong?” he pointed to your tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“nothing.” you replied, walking inside the house to avoid a conversation.

you thought he wouldn’t care any further but he followed you inside, “kids at school bothering you?”

“it doesn’t matter really.” you said, placing the books you were carrying on the dining table. you saw arvin disappear into the kitchen and felt bad about talking to him rudely. he was just being nice.

you were about to follow him into the kitchen but he came back with a glass of water. you took it from his hands, flashing him a little smile, and took a sip of water.

“if you want i can beat ‘em up for you.” he shrugged so casually it made you laugh.

after that day arvin and you became friends too and you noticed a lot more of him in the house. you noticed him helping lenora and you with homework, being in kitchen– even if he didn’t work much– with the three of you, eating at the table with everyone. you also noticed his room was right next to the one you were staying in.

after almost three weeks of living with the russell’s, you found a letter in the mailbox addressed to you. it was your mom’s. it was quite early in the morning, you hadn’t gone to school with lenora and you were sure no one was home so you carried the letter to your room, got under your covers and tore it open, reading it.

she had apologised for their constant bickering in that letter and asked you to stay with her once the divorce was settled. you sniffled, placing the letter at your bedside table.

the sudden knock at your door caught you off guard. arvin’s cap was the first thing you noticed as he entered the room partially, “everything okay?” he asked, voice deeper than his usual pitch. you probably woke him up.

“y-yeah, everything is fine.” you wiped your face with your sleeves.

“we got thin walls.” he said, entering the room fully now, “is everything okay?”

you nod your head, “mama sent me a letter, calling me back.”

“you don’t want that?” he rubbed his eyes, walking closer and sitting at the edge of your bed, close to your feet.

“what?”

“to leave here?”

you weren’t sure how to answer that. you wanted to go stay with your mother but something was holding you back too. you wondered if it was emma’s sweet nature, or getting to stay with lenora, or if it was arvin. the possibility made your heard flutter.

instead of saying any of that, you just chose to go with, “it won’t be the same without him there. my daddy.”

arvin placed a hand over yours, which was nervously fidgeting in your lap. he held it and looked into your eyes, “it’s gonna be alright.”

those words felt like everything you needed to hear. you nodded, giving him a smile. the two of you sat there in solitude until arvin’s words cut through the silence, “can i sleep with you?”

you could feel the drowsiness in his voice. instead of wording an answer, you simply lifted your blanket, inviting him to lay with you.

you two laid down, arvin hesitantly placing an arm around your waist. you shuffled closer to him, wrapping your arm around his shoulder until his head chin was resting over your head and your face was nestled into his chest.

you were enveloped in arvin, “oh, you’re so warm, don’t even let go of me.” the brunette mumbled, reading your thoughts. his eyes were closed and expressions the definition of calm when you looked up to read his face.

maybe arvin russell was the only reason you wanted to stay.

taglist | masterlist ✨

taglist: @httphollands @the-girl-in-the-chair @annathesillyfriend @spideyspeaches @prancerrparkerr @usergarfields @theglitterymess @quaksonhehe @lowkey-holland @starlight-starks @piscesparker @incorrectsourwolf @wildxwidow @blankspaceblankday @kelieah @arvinsvintage @parkersdahlia @raajali3 @tommyfroggie @ellabellabus07 @hollandstyles

[thenightfolknetwork]

um, hello. sorry, i’m a bit new to this “writing-in” thing, hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess.

you see, about a week ago, i met with my brother for the first time in… a while. about ten years to be exact. i was turned fairly young, when i was about 16, and my brother was only around 5 at the time. thing was, when i was first turned, i didn’t tell my parents. they would have hated the idea of me becoming a creature of the night, let alone a hematophage.

i didn’t quite understand how feeding worked at the time, or the sudden hunger that would strike me if i didn’t eat regularly. so, not quite sure how to handle myself yet, i nearly starved. i blacked out. and i bit my brother.

i didn’t mean to, i promise. my parents took him to the hospital almost immediately. they asked to keep him from turning, and told me to stay away. so i did. for about two weeks i would leave and come back to the hospital, only to be turned away by a family member or nurse refusing to let me see my brother. i would go home, only to find my parents had put in iron and silver all around, burning me whenever i tried to enter.

so i left. there wasn’t much i could do. i grew up staying with friends, other people of my genus, never staying to long in one place. i settled down fairly recently, got myself a home and a new boyfriend. and a job at a small shop downtown. one day, as i’m walking up to get inside, i see my brother. he’s looking in the window at some new posters we had gotten. i was so happy. i ran up to him, perhaps coming on a bit too strong, and introduced myself.

i understand that i hurt him in the past. i know i scared him. i hate that i ran away, and left him. but to see my own brother, staring up at me, terrified, holding a silver stake? it was a new kind of pain.

i see him almost every day now, but i keep my distance. he made his message clear. he works next door, apparently. sometimes i leave notes, apologies that i find crumpled in the gutter between our stores.

please. i miss my brother. but he hates me now, and he refuses to speak. i’d rather he renounce me, scream that he hates me, or do something, anything other than staring at me with his hand on his belt ready to pull out that damn stake. what do i do?

The first thing that strikes me in reading this letter is the ages of everyone involved. You say you were “fairly young” when you were turned. Reader, you were a child. You were a child, going through a change that is frightening and difficult even for adults who have freely chosen this path.

You were a child, and you were failed, utterly, by the adults responsible for keeping you safe. They failed to provide a supportive environment for you, so that you felt the need to keep this transformation a secret. In so doing, they failed to protect both you and your brother from the obvious, foreseeable consequences of that secrecy.

You didn't “run away” or abandon your brother. You were driven away – again, as a child. You had no agency in this situation, no chance to choose how you wanted to act. Please, be a little kinder to yourself.

I am also struck by your brother's age. He's not an adult man choosing to cut you out of his life – he's a 15 year old boy, already muddling through the slings and arrows of adolescence, suddenly confronted by the reappearance of his estranged sibling.

I'm afraid, reader, you may be asking too much of him. You have no idea what your brother has been told about you.

You don't know what he's been told about the events preceding your departure from the family home, or how your parents have raised him to think about the creature community in general. (Though, if he habitually carries a silver stake in his belt, we can certainly make some inferences.)

His reaction to you speaks more of shock and confusion than outright hatred and anger. It might be that he just needs time to process your reappearance, and to decide how he wants to proceed. Give him that time.

I recommend approaching him one more time, in as calm and neutral a manner as you can manage. Let him know you aren't going to push this – that you'd like to spend some time with him, perhaps get a cup of tea and chat a little, but that it's entirely up to him. Give him an easy way to contact you, and then, reader – walk away.

I hope your brother has a better support system around him than you did at his age. I hope there are adults in his life who can help him through this difficult process and reach a decision that feels right for him.

But that's not something you can control. All you can control is how you treat him – with respect and dignity, taking an adult's share of the emotional burden so it does not fall entirely on his young shoulders.

And by that, I do mean you need to take responsibility for your own emotional well-being here. Whether you find support from your friends or seek out professional help, you need to work through your grief and trauma around your parents' behaviour towards you.

At the risk of sounding patronising, I urge you to remember that you are also still very young, both by sapio standards and even more so by the standards of other, more long-lived genuses.

Your youth does not undermine your right to safety or happiness, or your right to have your grief taken seriously. But it does mean that there is time for this situation to change.

In time, your brother may grow out of the narrow view of the world in which your parents have raised him. I hope so. And by working on yourself and your own emotional health, you will be ready to be better sibling to him if and when he does choose to have you in his life.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]